Across the Heart
by Ember411
Summary: When Clara is kidnapped from Hope Valley, she will have to find the confidence, courage, bravery and hope that she had learned in her little town, in order to get past the bad days and return home.
1. New Faces

**Hello Harties! This is my first When Calls The Heart story. I love Clara, she's one of my favorites (the first being Abigail) and I thought of this story the other day while watching the last episode of season 3.**

 **I hope you enjoy!**

 **I own nothing but all OC characters.**

 **Summary:. When Clara is kidnapped from Hope Valley, she will have to find the confidence, courage, bravery and hope that she had learned in her little town, in order to get past the bad days and return home**

* * *

 **1: New Faces.**

It was a warm Spring morning in the small town of Hope Valley. The sun hidden behind few smokey clouds, but a sky clear blue. The people woke up at their usual times and began their usual mornings; making breakfast, getting ready for school or work, doing the morning chores before anything else would be done.

Clara Stanton had woken up a half hour later than she usually would of woken, with the birds singing their sweet morning tunes, as they flew past her window. She had stayed up a little late reading a book that she had brought along with her when she moved to Hope Valley. _Around the World in Seventy-Two Days_ by Nellie Bly. Clara was just a little two year old when the event happened, so she didn't know any personal experiences, but she loved reading about something that happened while she was alive (even if she had no memory of it at all).

Clara had helped get her mother-in-law's cafe get ready for the day. She had organized a couple of the dishes after breakfast.

"Clara, would you mind going to the mercantile and picking up an order I placed?" Abigail asked.

"I don't mind at all Abigail." Clara said with a nice smile. "I'll be back shortly."

* * *

A little down the path Clara made her entrance into the mercantile. She told the clerk about picking up Abigail's order. While she waited for the order she opted to walk around the store and see if there was anything new that caught her eyes. A little into the back Clara caught her eyes on some new clothing material; some yarn and new thimble. She picked up the materials and felt them, feeling the new texture of both. She needed another thimble after losing her old one and she needed some yarn to make another scarf for the winter coming up later in the year.

Clara turned the corner to return up front, when she bumped into someone. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"No problem at all." The man replied. The man looked a bit older than Clara, maybe about thirty, with very light brown hair and clear blue eyes. He had the usual mounties attire. "Just exploring a bit before settling down."

"Oh, I didn't know another Mountie was going to live in Hope Valley." Clara spoke.

The man's face stared at her for a couple of seconds and then released a loud laugh. "Oh yes, I've heard there was a constable here. Where is the old man's work station? I just arrived this morning."

"I be happy to show you the way. I have to pass constable Thorton's work anyways." Clara said.

"Thank you Ma'me."

* * *

Once she had purchased the order, Clara the the man began leaving the store to their destinations The man to be very bliss and had a sense of humor, making only a few small jokes. "Hope Valley, yes? When I asked about coming to Coal Valley, the local in the town over said they had a name change after some explosions."

"Yes. There was a mine explosion a while ago. After the mines were shut down everyone decided to rename the city." Clara explained, though her tone at the end of her sentence was sad. Something not unnoticed by the man.

"You okay, ma'me?" He asked her.

"Yes. It just hurts a little to think of the mine explosion."

"Lost your father?"

"No, my husband. Peter." Clara answered. "We had known one another for about a year and married, then three days later he died in the explosion."

"Oh, I'm very sorry for you lost ma'am." The man said, tipping his hat at her. "My condolences to Mrs..."

"Clara Stanton."

"Mrs. Clara Stanton." He said. He stood up and said, "My name is James Murphy, but my friends call me by my last name usually. Murphy."

* * *

The two of them were at Jack's work station. "Well, here we are." Clara said. "Constable Thornton's work station."

Just then, Jack came out of the door and saw the familiar girl with an unfamiliar man, but in familiar clothing. "Morning Clara," He greeted the young woman.

"Morning Jack." Clara greeted. "Jack, this is James Murphy."

"Oh, hello," Jack said and shook hands with the man. "You're a week early."

"Yes, I thought I had some last minute things to do. But things were handled and now here I am." He explained. "Call me Murphy."

"Well nice to meet you, Murphy." Jack said. ""Care to walk around to get a better view of the town?"

"Sounds like real joy. Thank you." Murphy said. "And thank you Mrs. Stanton," He tipped his hat towards her. "I hope to see you around more often."

"You too." Clara said with a smile.


	2. Medium Morning

**2: Medium Morning.**

The following morning Clara woke with the birds just as usual. She got herself ready for the day and went downstairs to help Abigail serve the morning bunch. Upon entering downstairs, Clara spotted a small vase with flowers in them. Daisy flowers, her favorite. She saw the card left with them and smiled at the signature. _Jesse._ They had been courting since Lee and Rosemary's wedding a little over a month ago in the middle of March. He always left sweet flowers for her on the most random days. He once even got Abigail to let him come in early and make a breakfast for Clara.

"Clara, those are lovely." Abigail said as she entered from the cafe dining room with a dirty plate. "Who are those from?"

"Jesse." Clara smiled. "They're my favorite ones too." She sniffed them.

"Well that explains why he came over a while ago with a bottle of milk to give me," Abigail laughed lightly. Clara could feel herself blushing light pink. "I'm just going to get Cody's lunch ready, do you mind going out into the cafe to get some orders?"

"No problem." Clara said as she put her vase of flowers down. She tied her apron on and went into the cafe room with a pot of coffee in her hands.

* * *

Clara went table by table, filling coffee mugs and asking if anyone needed anything. Though still a bit unskilled in cooking and serving, she was slowly becoming better in the area. At least, she hasn't poured coffee in any ones hats in a long time. Clara looked up at one point and saw Henrietta walk in with her husband. The young couple had moved to Hope Valley about a week ago. Her husband worked at the sawing mill. Henrietta was only a few months younger than the May born girl, born in July, but they both shared a similar childhood. Both of them lost their mother at a young age and both lost their ill-sickened father a few years past. Though Clara was left to work off her father's debt and Henrietta moved to an aunts home.

Henrietta had a small boy at her hips and a newborn in her arms. The smaller boy was picked up by her husband, the same age as Clara's late husband Peter. She young widow waved at the family and singled she would be with them in a moment. She poured a few more mugs of coffee and then strolled over to the family after grabbing two mugs for the parents.

"Hello Henrietta, Jedediah," She greeted the couple.

"Morning Clara," Henrietta greeted. "I think it's a lovely day."

"I agree." Clara smiled, pouring a cup of coffee for Henrietta. "Can I get you guys anything?"

"Just coffee for me." Jedediah said.

"A biscuit and a corn muffin, please."

Clara was in the back, thankfully pleased that some muffins and biscuits were made by Abigail early this morning. As Clara turned around she spotted, out of the corner of her eye, a small picture. Not just any picture though, it was a picture of her and Peter on their wedding day. A small, private, simple wedding; just the two of them and a priest at a church. She had given this to Abigail after the coal mine explosion trial.

She sighed. Peter and Clara had wanted to start a family as soon as possible. After Peter had helped his father work out the problems going on in the mine, then Peter would of introduced Clara and his mother and soon start their own little family somewhere.

Clara handed off the muffin and biscuit to the Howell family and poured a few more cups of coffee before going into the back and helping Abigail make some of the breakfast foods.

* * *

A while later just as Clara was finishing up a couple of the dishes she heard the door open in the cafe and the familiar sound of Jack's laugh echoed in the cafe. The brunette picked up a pot of coffee and made her way to pour a mug she had grabbed, only to see that Jack wasn't alone. Murphy was with him. Clara took a second coffee mug and walked over to the two men.

"Morning Jack, morning Murphy."

"Murphy? Who's Murphy? My name is James." Murphy laughed. "Just joking. No coffee for me, thank you."

Just as Clara poured a little bit of coffee into Jack's coffee mug, the front door opened. A man looking to speak to Jack. Jack excused himself and left for the outside with the man. Clara turned back to the kitchen.

"That's a nice apron you have. Your mother's?" Murphy asked.

"Oh no, I made this one myself." Clara said as she looked down at her own work. "I like sewing clothes. My mother taught me before she passed away when I was fourteen."

"It's real nice. My own mother had something similar to that once." Murphy smiled. He then locked eyes with Clara and said, "I think it's very nice when girls can make their own clothes. They can be artistic."

"Well, thank you." Clara said, a bit off toned. "Would you like a muffin? They're fresh."

"Did you make them?"

"Only if you want them burned or stale." She laughed softly.

"I'll take two then." Murphy said.

* * *

An hour later Murphy and Jack left. Murphy bowed before Clara, taking her hand in his own, and gently kissed the top. Clara blushed hard. She knew she was courting Jesse, but she didn't know how to react to another man kissing her hand.

"Well he seems very nice." Abigail said as she appeared next to Clara after the two men left.

"He does, doesn't he?" Clara smiled. "He says he liked Hope Valley so far. He says he might end up living here instead of the next town over to be part of their local police."

"And I wonder who changed his mind?" Abigail laughed.

"Abigail," Clara said in a playful tone.

"Just kidding."

* * *

 **I apologize if I made Abigail a little OCC in this chapter. So, Clara and Murphy had a small, friendly, conversation. A bit odd, but friendly.**

 **I do wish they made Clara pregnant on _When Calls The Heart._ Like, I know it seems cliche for television shows to do that, but I do love when any television show has a pregnant female that ends up with situations like Clara.**


	3. More 'Friendly' Conversations

**3: More 'Friendly' Conversations.**

A day or so later, Clara was sitting outside of the cafe working on an apron for Dottie that was torn in half. It was very warm out but with high winds to cool down Hope Valley. She was humming to herself softly as she finished the last few stitches on the apron.

"Hello Clara." A voice greeted her. Clara looked up and saw Jesse.

"Oh, hello Jesse." She greeted. "Where are you off too today?"

"Running some errands for Mr. Coulter. Care to join me in a walk?" He smiled.

"Of course. Let me just put this stuff away," Clara said as she began packing up her things.

* * *

The duo walked to the mercantile where Jesse picked up Lee's orders and then the two took their time going back to the sawmill. They were talking about the weather and some updates on the settlement families that had moved a little bit more closer to Hope Valley, away from bodies of rivers. They had passed Henrietta and her two children. She was outside waiting for a friend to come out of one of the buildings. Her husband was probably out working.

"Oh look Clara, your twin." Jesse laughed softly.

"Funny." Clara said. "If Henrietta was my twin than I wouldn't know you."

"Why so?"

"I would be with her, my nephew and my niece all the time." She smiled. Clara glanced over once more and saw the mother cuddling the newborn in her arms while the older child was playing with some rocks on the ground. She sighed, which was not unnoticed by Jesse.

"Clara?"

"Oh, yes?" She turned to him.

"Are you okay?"

"A little." She said. "Sometimes I wished Peter and I had a child. Even just one child. We married in a small ceremony and then an hour later was the train back towards here."

"So the last time you saw him was on your wedding day?"

"Yes. Then the accident happened." She said with a little sad tone. "I'm moving forward with my life, I know he would want that, but I still miss him a lot."

* * *

The end of the day had come for Hope Valley. Everyone was in their homes and asleep. Well, almost everyone. Out on the outskirts of town were two men walking towards one another. One in dark clothing with a brown jacket and hat, the other in a red coat and tan hat. "How are things, Owens?"

"Fine. Just fine." The other man replied.

"Find anything...interesting?" The first man asked.

"I did." The second man said. "A real nice one too."

"Details?"

"Widow. Young, nearly twenty-five of age next month. Long brown hair, green eyes. Average height." The second man answered.

"Perfect."


	4. April Showers

**4: April Showers.**

Two days post, it was raining in Hope Valley. Grueling than the accustomed rain weather, but not like it was months ago that caused the settlement to be overflowed with rain water. With a few exceptions almost nobody was outside during the day. The only ones who were out during the weather were Jack and Lee, both working. School was in session but the children were having indoor recess. A few people had come to Abigail's cafe to get something warm.

Clara was cleaning a couple of the dishes in the back with Rosemary's help. The weather had died down a bit, yet it drop dropped lightly now. The young woman went to place some of the cups and plates away when she saw the apron that she had fixed the other day for Dottie. She could of sworn that she had delivered it to her already, but nevertheless she figured she would take a short walk to Dottie's home and give her the apron.

"Rosemary, I'll return in a few moments. I have to go out and deliver something to Dottie." Clara said as she put her jacket on.

"Are you sure? It's awful out." Abigail said as she entered the back with some coffee in a pot.

"It's cleared for a little while," Clara said as she looked out the window. It was dying down a tiny bit. "It's just a short walk to Dottie's."

"Okay. But hurry up or you'll catch a cold."

* * *

With the apron closed up in several bags to prevent from water damaged, Clara strolled briskly to Dottie's home. The wind was picking up as the rain was now becoming harder, but Clara was sure she would be back before she would get soaking wet enough to catch a cold.

She knocked on Dottie's door and waited. Dottie opened it and saw it was Clara with the bags. She had asked what was inside and Clara answered that it was the apron she fixed. "Goodness, I actually had forgotten that I asked to have my apron fixed." She said.

"It's no problem. I forgot myself until a while ago." Clara said as she handed the bag to Dottie. Dottie handed Clara her payment for the fix, which Clara placed into her jacket pocket, and thanked her.

* * *

Clara practically ran back towards Abigail's cafe. The rain was now harder than earlier this morning. It was sort of almost hard to see through the rain but it was still manageable to see through. Clara heard someone call her name and spun around. It sounded like Jesse, but Jesse was out of town on business for Lee. Maybe he had returned early.

No. It was Murphy. "Murphy?"

"Hello Clara!" He yelled over the rain. "What are you doing out in this rain?"

"I had to made a delivery to someone. I was just going back to Abigail's." She answered.

"I'm leaving in a few days, but I have a gift for you." Murphy told her. "Someone mentioned today was your birthday."

Clara stared at him oddly. Almost everyone in town new when Clara's birthday was; May 20. Then again a couple of the new residents of Hope Valley had probably misheard or mistaken Clara's birthday with someone else. She shook her head with a grin. "My birthday is next month."

"Oh, I must of heard wrong." He said. "Well I have a gift anyways. You were the first friend I made here in town and you were friendly, so I figure I'd get you a birthday gift."

"Oh it's not problem. It happens." Clara smiled.

"May I still give you the gift?"

"You didn't have to give me a gift." Clara told him.

"Please?"

Clara felt bad for Murphy. He had already mistaken her birthday and put time into getting a birthday gift for her. It shouldn't be too long to take a gift. She could probably make something for him in return; such as a scarf. If she managed to stay up all night to work on it she could have it finished in a couple of days. "Okay." She said.

* * *

Jack was on his horse making his daily routine of walking around Hope Valley. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary since mostly everyone was inside. Jack made his U-turn on the horse and headed back to the beginning of his routine.

* * *

Clara followed Murphy to an unoccupied area of Hope Valley to the car that was hidden away. Strange that there was a car here. "Who's car is this?"

"A friend of mine. He's lending it to me so that when I get to the next town I have a ride."

"Don't mounties have horses?"

"Uh... mine will be in the next city. But to get there I need a ride, so my friend lent me his. He's visiting family in Hamilton so he will meet me in the next city." He told her. "The gift is inside."

Clara walked to the car and peeked inside. The rain had finally finished so it was easy to see inside the car. She only found a blanket and rope inside. "A blanket?"

She looked up and didn't see Murphy. Murphy had a sweet, gentle smile. This man in front of her was not that Murphy. This Murphy had almost an evil smirk upon his face, his face almost dark and shadowy. "Oh Billy boy." He called out in a strange, creepy tone in his throat.

Clara's head tilted to the side. Billy boy? Clara felt someone come up behind her and it did not feel good to her at all. The next thing Clara knew she felt one arm around her body and a hand covering her mouth.

* * *

Jack had made it a few feet from the beginning when he heard a girl screaming from off the side of Hope Valley. He turned his horse rapidly and rushed to where the scream was heard.

* * *

"Hmmm!" Clara screamed through the mouth. She was giggling and kicking (when she could) to get out of grips of the man who held her. Murphy was holding the rope in his hands and yelling at the man (Billy) to hold her still. "Hmmm!" Clara muffled again loudly.

"Hold her still!" Murphy yelled loudly. "Keep her steady!"

Billy did so, he knew how to keep her quiet. Billy released his hand from her mouth, prompting Clara to keep shouting at the top of her lungs, and turned her. "Shut up!" Billy yelled. Clara only screamed louder. Billy lifted his hand and forcefully smacked her across the face, causing Clara to blackout.

"Christ, don't kill her!" Murphy yelled and started up the car, so it was ready to go when they finished.

"Well what else was I suppose to do!?" Billy yelled back and took the rope from Murphy's free hand. He then looked up and saw a man on a horse in a red coat rushing to them. "Mountie!" He yelled.

"Crap! Throw her in!" Murphy yelled.

Jack grew closer and closer to the three people he saw; two men and a woman. As he drew in closer he saw it was Murphy, a strange man and Clara...who looked knocked out. The strange man threw Clara into the back seat, then just in himself just as Murphy drove off. "Ya!" He yelled, making the rose run faster to follow the automobile. It was a fast car, but Jack was sure it would follow the automobile enough.

* * *

Murphy drove as fast as she could while Billy tied up a still knocked out Clara. "I thought yous said the mountie was on the other side!"

"He was suppose to be there! He must of made a short trip!" Murphy screamed. "Damn it!"

Jack hurried as fast as he could, but the car was a lot quicker than his horse. Three times as fast. "Ya!" He yelled louder, the horse moving at his fastest speed he could go. It was working, Jack was nearing the car.

"Owen!" Billy yelled, revealing the man's true name. "Mountie catching on!"

Owen slowed down on the car.

"What are you doing!?" Billy shouted.

"Mountie wants to fight. Mountie's going to fight. Hands verse hands." Owen said. "Here's the plan!"

After a couple of minutes the car slowed down. Jack's horse began to slow down too. He saw 'Murphy' open the door and step out, his companion stepping out too. "Murphy," Jack said in a stern voice. "Where is Clara?"

"Sleeping." He lied. "We were just going for a nice drive and she fell asleep."

"At such high speeds?"

"Hey, worked for my cousin a while back." The driver laughed. "Billy," He turned to the man in the back seat. "Please put Clara on the back of the nice man's horse."

Billy turned to Jack, hoping to find permission to do so. Jack nodded as he stepped off the horse. Billy picked up Clara and held her without waking her up and began walking to the horse to put the girl on it.

Jack watched as they passed him, then turned back to Murphy. "What's going on here, Murphy?"

Murphy just stood there and smiled evilly at him As if he was waiting for someone to do something.

"Murphy? What's the deal?" Jack asked again.

"Well first of all, Mountie Jack, it's Owen."

"Owen?" Jack questioned. A second later, he felt something hit him in the back of the head.

Jack was knocked out completely.

"Take his gun and other weapons of use," Murphy said. "Hand it to me and then get on the horse."

"Why so?"

"So he doesn't follow up as quickly, idiot." Murphy said.

* * *

Jack woke up several hours later or so. It was dark out. It took Jack a few moments to remember everything. "Clara?" He called out. "Clara!?" He turned, only to see that his horse was gone.

And so was Clara.


	5. Barns and Men

**5: Barns and Men.**

The smack that Billy had given Clara was a good one to knock her out. Clara came conscious hours later. Her vision was blurred and she had no memory of what happened for a moment or two. It then hit her like a brick hit her head that Clara remembered everything. Murphy, Billy, the car. She started to move when she felt restricted.

"Hmm?" She spoke, only to find her mouth was covered with cloth and something inside of her mouth prevented sound too. "Hmm!" She yelled, feeling the ropes that held her wrist together as well as her ankles. "Hmmm!"

"Hmmm!" A voice called. Clara turned and found another girl, about her age, with black curly hair and clear blue eyes in a red dress. She too was tied up the same as Clara was herself. "Hmm!"

"Hmmm!" A third girl spoke out. Clara could spot her from the corner of her eyes; a girl that was a bit younger than herself. Dressed in a rag, old dress that her red hair covering her sickly pale face.

 _Where am I? This is clearly not Hope Valley. Who are these girls? Where is anyone else?_ Clara's mind was rushing with these questions and more that she almost didn't hear the door open. It was Murphy, but dressed differently. Murphy walked over to Clara and got down to her level.

"Had a good sleep, Clara?" He asked, rubbing her cheek. Clara cringed. "Don't worry, you'll be in safe arms soon. I see you've met your two friends, Rosalie," He pointed to the girl in the red dress. "And Alice." He pointed to the red hair girl. "They're going to be here with you for a while before they go out."

"Hmm?"

"Just out. Oh, and I'm Owen Williams." He said. "I just took someone else's name for a while to get into town. Worked out perfectly too." Owen stood up. "I'll leave you girls alone now. Sleep tight, early day tomorrow."

Owen left the girls in what looked like a barn, but no windows or any means of escape if they wanted to try. The only source of light were from the candles that lit inside jars. Clara sighed and leaned back. She wanted to go home. She heard ruffles and turned her head, finding Alice taking the cloth over her face off. "Hmmm?"

Alice stood up and rushed over to Clara and took the cloth off her mouth. "There's a stocking in your mouth." She said when the cloth was off.

Clara spat it it. "Ew!" She said. "Where am I? What am I doing here!?"

"Shhs, your okay now." Alice said. "I'm Alice, that there is Rosalie."

"Yes, I know."

"Did he do the same thing to you?" Alice asked. "Pretended to be someone important of some sort and then took you?"

"Yes." Clara said. "I'm from Hope Valley."

"I'm from a little coal mine city, River Lane." Alice told her. Clara knew where that was. "I've been here for three weeks now."

They both stood up and untied Rosalie from her tying up. "I'm from California. That Owen man told me that I could have a great job in acting if I went to Hamilton."

"How long have you been here?" Clara questioned.

"Two months. I only got fresh air about two weeks ago for the first time since then." Rosalie told the two girls. "I met another girl in here name Isabelle. She and another girl were here for five weeks each."

"What happened to them?" Alice asked.

"Some guys came in and looked at all of us. The one guy took Isabelle against her will and Isabelle was told she had to live here longer."

"I don't want to stay here! I want to go home!" Alice yelled.

"Me too." Clara said with sadness in her voice. "I miss Hope Valley."

"Hope Valley?" Rosalie repeated. "Do you know a Miss Rosemary?" Clara nodded. "I love her. I was hoping one day we could star together in some production. Rosalie and Rosemary." Her voice was in aw.

* * *

The girls spent the night together talking among themselves and getting to know one another. Rosalie told them that it was common for men to walk inside and outside the barn several times a day; thug, dirty looking men who smoked cigars and pipes and blew the dust into one's face. They would look at each girl and study her before leaving or taking a girl.

"What are we? Flowers in a garden?" Alice spoke. "It sounds very strange."

"I just hope we get out soon and get home." Rosalie said as she laid back in the pile of hey. "I just noticed. How we going to tie back up? There will be one left."

"I'm able to tie myself back up alone, do not worry." Alice smiled. "Clara?" She turned to the girl who stared up at the ceiling of the barn. "You okay?"

"Fine." The girl replied. Not really though. She wished she was home in Hope Valley.

* * *

Back home in Hope Valley, Abigail was up later than usual. She was sitting outside on the deck with a blanket over herself and looking up at the bright stars that lit the cold April night. "Dear Heavenly Father, please watch over Clara and keep her safe until she comes home." She whispered softly, feeling her watery eyes freed a couple of tears.

* * *

 **Hello Hearties! Sorry if this chapter wasn't written as best as it was. So Clara's met two other girls who gave backstory as to what has been happening so far.**

 **What will happen to our Clara?**


	6. Alone

**Hey Hearties!**

By mid-morning Clara was still awake. She was confused, frightened, scared and worried. She didn't know where she was, she had no idea what to expect today, she had no idea what Owen was going to do to her and she worried that she wouldn't live anymore. That was the very last thought in her mind though. She kept her Hope Valley family in her heart. That was the only strength she had to keep her from becoming over emotional.

Rosalie was still asleep in her ropes, but Alice was already up and she looked a little sick in the face. Clara moved a bit to make some sort of noise to get Alice's attention. Alice turned and found her new friend looking back at her. The brunette nodded at the red haired girl. _Are you okay?_ The red haired girl nodded back. _I'm okay._

The door opened and in came Owen, with three men behind him; both of them brawny and taller than Owen. "Good morning, ladies." He said in a tone that reminded Clara of Henry Gowen back in Hope Valley. Though Henry was a bit dark and mysterious, there was always a guess as to what his shady business could be. Nobody could guess what Owens shady business could be. "I have a couple of friends who'd like to meet you."

The first man walked up to Alice and gawked at her. He untied her ankles, but her wrists and mouth were still tied up. She struggled as he dragged her outside. Clara looked on in horror. They were being kidnapped _again?_ The second man walked up to Clara and studied her for a moment. He held her cheeks with his thumb and index finger and turned her head side to side, then felt around her abdomen and waist. He stepped away and went straight to Rosalie. He did the same to her as he did with Clara. He untied her ankles and kept a grip on her as he dragged her out of the barn.

The third man came up to Clara and looked at her for a few moments. Clara was close to tears. She felt like he was looking beneath her dress and violating her with his blackened eyes. She breathed heavy, gasping a few times, and close to tears. She wanted to go home to Hope Valley. Or even Hamilton at this point, then catch a ride back to Hope Valley for safety. The third man got down to her level and cupped the side of her face, studying her jawline and her facial appearance.

"Can you cook?" He asked her, his voice was deep and cold.

She nodded slightly. She can't lie and say she is the best, but she has learned from Abigail a few things or two about cooking.

"Can you sew?"

She nodded.

"Do you like children?"

She nodded.

The man studied her for a couple of more minutes before standing up and walking back to Owen. The two of them spoke in soft voices for what felt like a lifetime before the man left and Owen walked back to where Clara was. He had in a basket of his some food and water.

"Come now Clara," He said as he took the cloth of her mouth. "Time to eat."

Once Owen took the sock out of her mouth, Clara spoke in a bit of anger. "Where am I and who was that!?"

"A close friend of mine. He was just checking you out and wondered if you qualified."

"I am not some sort of thing to be won." The brunette told him sternly.

"No, you are not. But you are a nice price." Owen said with a smile. "He's got a friend in a big city who's looking for a wife."

"I'm taken."

"You are a widow."

"I'm not marrying someone that I do not know." Clara told him. "Let me go, Owen." She said softly. "Just let me go. I'll tell everyone in Hope Valley that I played dead and I was dropped in a ditch."

"Hmmm," Owen said. "Nope." He held up a piece of bread. "Time to eat."

Clara kept her mouth shut and turned away. She would rather starve than eat bread.

"You're going to get hungry sooner or later." Owen said as he stood up. "And you will be going with my friend tomorrow."

"No." Clara told him.

Owen took the sock and went to stuff it in her mouth again, but Clara refused to open her mouth. Owen managed to grasp her nose and hold it. Clara needed air, so she opened her mouth for a quick breath—Owen was too quick for her. He stuffed the sock inside her mouth and held it in there as he tied the cloth around her mouth. "Don't worry. You'll be safe soon, my dear."

Owen left her in the barn once more. Clara was alone. Rosalie and Alice were gone. Clara shifted and moved around to get the ropes undone. Nothing worked, she was stuck again.

Clara bowed her head down. She sobbed hard. She wanted to go home. She prayed to God to release her to safety and back into the arms of Hope Valley.


	7. Boats

**Boats**

Clara didn't eat the rest of the full day, but past dinner she felt hunger within her. She was tired, weak and heart broken. She missed home, she missed her friends and her family. She tried to sleep but it was very uncomfortable for her. Sleeping on a pile of rocks and dirt back home in Hope Valley would be nicer. Then again, someone sleeping on the ground in Hope Valley would never happen—someone would let the person into their warm home for the night.

The following morning Clara was jerked awake by Owen. "You're going to eat this bread." He said, stress was in his voice. "Wake up!"

Clara sat up startled. He was so mean this morning. Why was he so mean this morning?

Owen united her mouth and took the sock out. Her jaw hurt from the size of the sock ball. "Eat this damn bread and drink this damn water." Clara shook her head. Owen, frustrated, quickly pulled out a gun on her. "Eat. The. Bread." He said.

Clara took the bread and ate it, quickly.

"Slow down! I can't help if you choke!"

Clara slowed down on the food. "If you don't mind me wondering, why are you so upset this morning."

Owen looked at her, his eyes large and wide, staring at her like she had just insulted him. Owen raised his hand and slapped Clara's cheek. Clara screamed in pain, holding her burning cheek that was on red fire.

"Listen to me," Owen said, grabbing her wrist and holding it tightly. "I am in no mood to deal with you today."

"I just asked—" Clara said, but Owen stood up and dragged the smaller woman with him. "Owen?"

Owen, again, held the gun up to her; this time her chest. "You're gonna do as I say or else there is not longer going to be breathe in you. Got it?" Clara nodded, her eyes began watery and her throat swelled up with sadness and pain. "Finish the bread."

Clara ate as fast as she could. Once finished, Owen dragged her out of the barn. For the first time in a few days, Clara had seen daylight. It sparked her eyes brightly and it took her a moment or two for her eyes to adjust to such brightness. The sun was fairly warm on this April morning. She loved Spring.

Clara could hear birds, seagulls, which meant they were close to an ocean. "Where am I?" She asked him again.

"Off the edge of Hamilton," He answered. "Close by the docks and boats."

 _Isn't Elizabeth's father a worker on the docks? I know his name is William Thatcher, but I can't remember what he looked like. Does Elizabeth look like him or does she have her mother's looks? Why can't I remember?_

Clara was positive she remembered what Mr. Thatcher looked like, so she was going to try and keep an eye out for him. Owen mentioned that if she tried to run, he'd shoot her. That scared her enough to not even try to move, but what would happen if she saw Mr. Thatcher?

Down at the boats there were ships; loading and unloading carts, and some with people coming off of them and others getting ready to board the ships. Owen pulled Clara to one of the boats, a ship rather, and pulled her on board. Clara took the time to try and find Mr. Thatcher, but she couldn't see him out there. "Where are we going?" Clara asked.

"You're going on a trip." He told her.

"W-where?" Clara asked.

Owen did not speak a word. Instead, he just pushed Clara into a pile of potato bags and tied her up again, remaindering of the gun he held in his pockets. "Stay here." He said, then turned and left.

The brunette had no idea how long she had been alone, it felt like hours to her, when finally someone came. It was the man from yesterday. He came up to Clara with that same evil smirk on his face. "Evening," He said and tipped his hat at the brunette. "Feeling well this morning?"

"Where are you taking me?" Clara demanded. She was pretty fed up now with not having any answers.

The man got down and semi-closer to Clara. She could smell the alcohol from his while he stood up, so being this close to her made her want to vomit. She _hates_ the smell of alcohol. Every once in a while at the saloon back home, it would reek of alcohol too much and Clara would try to avoid being inside at all. Only once did she had to be inside because she was helping Elizabeth with some work.

"Your going on a small trip. You'll be there in a couple of days." He said. "To a friend of mine."

"I want to go home."

"Your going to your new home," He smirked. "This friend of mine has a friend who's looking for a wife."

"I may be widowed but I am _not_ going to marry someone I do not know." She told him.

The man stared at her for a moment. He then rapidly covered her mouth and held it tightly with his palm, then used his free hand to punch her in the stomach. Clara screamed but the hand kept her screamed muffled. The man punched her again, harder, and Clara nearly cried from the pain.

"You going to shut that hole in your face now?" He asked. Clara nodded. "Good." He released his hand. "Your gonna get to the city, meet a friend of mine and then the rest is history. If you don't follow this plan," He took out a gun. "I'll kill ya. Got it?"

Clara nodded.

"Good."

"O-One question?" She was soft spoken, worried he might hurt her again.

He groaned and said, "What!?"

"Where am I going?" Clara questioned. "Please, just give me a location."

The man smirked at her. He might as well just tell her where they were going, since it was at least a weeks long worth of a trip.

"Ireland, Miss Clara Stranton."


	8. Shaken

**Shaken.**

It felt like a month had gone by since Clara was taken. Everyone in Hope Valley was still shaken up by such event. They knew it was possible to be kidnapped and had heard stories about it happening in other nearby towns and cities, but they never dared to think that it could happen in their own little city. Ever.

Out of everyone who was shaken up by this, Abigail and Jack took it the worse.

Clara was family to Abigail. Clara is her daughter-in-law, even with no so to son living to prove this. No, change that. Clara _is_ her _daughter._ No matter what anyone could say. She prayed every night that Clara was safe wherever she was taken and that whomever she was with was treating her nicely and not harming her in horrible ways. That was something Abigail struggled with, worrying that someone could happen to Clara.

Every day Abigail looked at Clara and Peter's wedding photo. She missed her children so much.

Jack wanted to beat himself up for it every day since the day. He was so close, _so close,_ to saving her from those men. Even though Clara had been knocked out, just seeing her body leaning over in the car was a haunting memory for Jack every night. Elizabeth tried to help him feel better in any way she could, but it never helped Jack.

Jack had sent out notice to the other nearby Mounties about what had happened, giving a description of the two men and showing a photo of Clara to them. He hoped that someone would have a message soon on Clara's whereabouts.

Some others who took it hard were Jesse and Rosemary. Rosemary regrets ever letting Clara go off by herself to deliver the package to Dottie, let alone let her go during a horrible rainy day. Jesse regrets not saying 'I love you' to Clara the night before after he walked her home. And not kissing her cheek like he usually did.

Jack was out on watch one night, making his hourly routine of walking around the boundary of Hope Valley. He was passing Abigail's cafe and found the cafe owner sitting outside on a chair with a blanket on around her shoulders, dazing up in the stars.

"Abigail," He greeted her. "Evening."

"Evening Jack." Abigail smiled. "Warm night, isn't it?"

"Yes it is," Jack said and happened to look up in the sky. "Not a cloud in the sky to cover the stars."

"With a half moon to compliment the stars." The other admired. "How's patrol?"

"Calm. Rarely any activity. And yourself?"

"Just looking at the stars," She answered. "I've been looking at them almost every night for the past couple of days. I like to think they're the eyes of our loved ones who past and are keeping their eyes on us and the rest of the kin."

Jack nodded at the woman's belief. He also believed that too, but also knew this was Abigail's way of staying calm until Clara was to be back in Hope Valley. "It's getting colder out by the hour, so don't stay out too long."

"I won't. I promise." Abigail smiled.

The two of them enjoyed the moment together under the stars for several more minutes before Abigail stood up, ready to go back inside. Jack began to strode away when he stopped and turned his horse around, catching Abigail before she went back inside for the night. "Abigail." He called out.

Abigail stopped and saw Jack jumping off his horse and walking to her. "Yes Jack?"

"I'm—I'm sorry," He said when they reached near one another.

"For what?"

"I should of saved her," Jack told the mother-in-law. "I should of known those men would play a trick like that. I had a feeling that something like that could happen, but I didn't listen to it."

"Jack," Abigail smiled softly. "I know you tried your best. I _know_ you did. This is none of your fault; this is no one's fault but the men who took Clara."

"I promise I will find her and bring her home." Jack said.

"I know that too." Abigail smiled. "Thank you."


	9. Friendship

**Friendship.**

Clara was scared, frightened and frozen in her body. Like being stuck somewhere in the sky and not being able to get out of it. Even though it's been five days on this ship going to the other side of the world, Clara felt as if it had been decades on the water.

She was forced to promise on a bible that she would not speak a word to any of the passengers about her reasons for going to Ireland (though some people had said England) and that she was to find a man by the name of David O'Brady on the docks where the ships and boats landed.

Clara sat on a bench facing the water as the sea breeze blew on her long, curled brown lock of hair. She had not eaten much of the food on the ship. She wanted food from the cafe. Abigail's cafe. She was uncomfortable in the bunk bed below the ship, she missed her old bed. Even the bed in the tiny, little apartment in her hometown was better than the bunks on this ship. She cried to herself softly every night for the past few days. She wanted her old life back.

On the sixth day, Clara forced herself to eat a full meal that she was provided. It wasn't much, but it was still something she could settle into her thin belly. She was sitting alone on a bench below deck where other third class passengers sat during the rain storm above them. She sat alone over in the corner by herself, slowly biting and chewing the tasteless food.

"Why so lonely, miss?" A voice spoke up as feet came to a stop in front of Clara.

Clara peeked up and caught eyes with a boy about her age with rust colored hair and bright blue eyes. "I'm sorry?" She asked.

"I asked why you are so lonely." He repeated. His voice was a thick Irish dialect, but very easy to understand.

"Oh," Clara said. "I just prefer to be alone."

"I've seen you the past few days. You look too sad to want to be alone," He said as he put his hands in his pants pockets. "Mind if I take the free seat or is that for your husband?"

Clara took a glance at the spot. "Yes, you may sit here if you want." She scooted over for him.

"Thank you," He said and sat next to her. He took his hat and tipped it at her. "The name's Harry O'Malley."

"Clara Stranton," Clara said.

"Nice to meet you Clara." He said genuinely. "What do you plan to do over in England if I may ask?"

"I thought this was going to Ireland. I was told so." Clara answered.

"No," Harry said a bit confused. "This ship is going to ship in St. David's and then I am going to my Pa and sister's place over in London."

"I'm meeting someone." Clara said. That was not a lie. "A friend of a friend, to say."

"And after that?"

Clara shrugged lightly. "I'm not sure."

"Well, we'll be shipping in a day or two and then be on our separate paths." Harry said with a smile. "You're real pretty. Your husband is a lucky man."

"I'm widowed."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Harry said in a genuine sad tone.

"Thank you." Clara said, giving Harry a small smile. "It happened a long time ago. We were married for not even a full week, but the few short days we had married were beautiful. I met his mother after that and now she is like my own mother."

"And how does your Ma feel?"

"She passed away some time ago. My father too." Clara told him, becoming sad again. She felt a tear drop rolling down her cheek.

"Aw don't cry," Harry used his thumb to wipe away her tear. "I feel like whatever pain they must have been in, they are no longer in the pain."

"I know."

"What are your Ma, Pa and husband names?"

"Fred, Josephine and Peter."

"Your Ma's name is Fred and Pa's name is Josephine?" Harry laughed. Clara bashfully turned her head after that, realizing how he took her answer. "I'm kidding. I'll keep them in my prayers."

"Thank you." Clara said with a grin.

The two of them both sat in silence for a while after that. Clara enjoyed that she was able to just think in her own mind and wonder about the future but know that there was someone next to her in person. After the whole while Harry took something out of his pocket. It was a white rosary bead necklace with a silver cross. "Keep this. I have a feeling you are going to need it."

"I couldn't take it." Clara said.

"No, please, take it." Harry urged her. "You are going to need it. I have a feeling."

Clara took the necklace and held it in her hand. "Thank you." She said sweetly.

The next few hours Clara kept to herself, but also kept speaking to Harry when he was nearby. At the end of the night as Clara settled into her bunk she held the rosary bead necklace in her hand and peeked up. Not at the ceiling, not the sky, but to the Heaven above her. "Thank you." She smiled.


	10. Cold Feet, Cold Heart

**Cold Feet, Cold Heart.**

* * *

Three more days passed and the ship finally landed in England, off the coast of St. David Life Boat station. Clara waited to be the last to get off the ship, wanting to keep her last moments of freedom and enjoy them. Harry had offered her a hand, so she wasn't alone when leaving, but Clara declined his offer and thanked him for her kindness and friendship.

"Anytime, Mrs. Stranton." He smiled. "If you are ever visiting London, head down North West from the center of London. There's a wee little Irish community where my Pa and sister live. Just ask for me and someone will point their way for you."

"Thank you," Clara said and hugged him.

Harry was part of the middle ship travelers to leave. Clara inhaled fresh freedom when she saw that she was the last to leave. Clara walked off the ship, on the runway down to the docks, where he saw a man standing there. The man had short, blond hair and wore a rimmed hat.

"Are you the one Owen sent?" His thick, England accent asked Clara. "Probably are. She's expected either yesterday, today or tomorrow."

"Y-yes." Clara said, trying hard to keep her voice clear and strong. "May I ask your name?"

"Michael Smith." He told her. "This way," He said and grasped her hand, tightly, pulling her to where he wanted her to be.

* * *

During the half hour minute horse carriage ride to wherever they were going, Clara looked around the city of St. David and saw how nice and friendly everyone seemed to be. If she was to live here from now on she was glad there were many people here. Maybe she could tell one of them the truth and help get back home.

Clara heard the familiar sounds of bells ringing. Church bells to be exact. She peered outside the window to find a very massive size church, gray stoned, with large bells on top of the tallest tower. "Why are we going to a Church? It's not Sunday."

"Friend of mine is there." Michael said, blowing a cigarette smoke in Clara's face. She coughed a few times. "Be there in ten minutes."

Clara sighed silently. Ten more minutes of real freedom.

* * *

Ten minutes passed and they were parked out front. Clara gazed at the beautiful sight. She hadn't been inside a large church like this in years. She adored big churches like this, and old ones too, but she also loved the schoolhouse church in Hope Valley too.

She turned around to face the hills and discovered gravestones along them. This church must also have their own cemetery, which added to it's history that somehow made this church seem beautiful.

* * *

She entered the old prayer mansion and found more beauty inside. The glass windows were vibrant in shades of royal blue, scarlet red, sunny yellow, Spring green, Heavenly gold and peach orange. The walls were shades of dark gray and light gray and felt wonderful to touch. The large, massive archways were rounded like a horse shoe.

Clara saw a man sitting up front, praying to the Jesus hanging on the cross, above the table where the priest would stand during masses. He wore a formal tuxedo suite as if he was going to a formal event or, sadly, a event for those no longer living. Michael dragged Clara up front to the man.

"Mr. Pennington," Michael spoke up. "I have a friend here for you." He said, blowing another breathe of cigarette into the air.

The man stood up and looked at Clara. He was taller than her, about six feet, with light auburn hair with hazel green eyes. He was slim but appeared strong to her. His eyes widened as if he was surprised and smiled. "You look an awful like my late wife, Catherine " He said. He also had a thick, English accent. "I'm Patrick Pennington."

"Clara Stranton." The young woman replied.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Stranton."

"Mrs." Clara corrected. Patrick had given her a strange look. "I'm widowed.

"Ah, I see." He said. "Spin around, please."

Clara, as much as she wanted to run, did as he said. Slowly she turned a full circle, feeling his hazel eyes study her body up and down. She felt so...dirty.

"Take her to the back where Mrs. Franklin is." Patrick said, pulling out a watch from his pocket. "We're going to run late for dinner if we're any later."

"Yes, sir." Michael said. "Come here." He took Clara's wrist and pulled her.

* * *

"Where are we going now?" Clara asked.

"The back." He said. "Whatever they ask you, you lie."

"In a Church!?" Clara asked appalled. "I, sir, may be forced to lie outside in the world. But I do not lie inside a house of prayer."

Michael turned a corner and pinned her again the wall, slapping her cheek. Michael pulled out a knife from his inside jacket pocket and held it up to her neck. "Keep your mouth shut about the truth and lie or never see another sunrise."

Clara nodded. "Yes." She feared for her freedom being stripped, but feared the knife stabbing her more than her freedom. Either way, she died.

* * *

Clara was brought to a back room and saw several women in the back, all organizing different things. Michael tossed her inside the room and slammed the door, locking it behind her. The women looked up and saw the beautiful girl in their presents. "You must be the girl Mr. Pennington courted for some time, correct?" One women asked, a thick England accent as well.

"Y-yes." The brunette lied. She nearly cried after that. Here she was, lying in the house of God, because she wanted to live more and hope that she would be saved to see Hope Valley once more. "My name is Clara."

"Nice to meet you miss," The second woman asked, her accent was the same as Harry's. She walked up to Clara and studied her face. "You have good skin. I know the perfect colors for you."

The third woman held out a tape measure and walked up to Clara, measuring her body; her bust, her waist, and her height. "You've got a nice body, but the dress might be a bit tight for you. Better use a corset."

"A corset?" Clara asked.

It felt like forever but at the end Clara was made up. The three women admired the girl. Clara looked at her reflection. Her hair was done neatly, curls at the end, with very light makeup. She wore silver diamond earrings with a matching necklace. Her dress was white, long and laced with sleeves up to her wrists and reached an inch below her feet and dragged a bit. The veil was longer and trailed behind her.

"You must be very excited to be marrying Ms. Pennington." The first woman asked.

"Yes." Clara said. She hadn't spoken much. Most of the conversations the women made required mostly 'yes' and 'no' answers. Clara had said mostly 'yes' to the questions, but with sadness in her heart. She did not want to marry. She married once and even though she would move on one day, she still was not ready to move on these days.

There was a large knock on the door. _"Is the bride ready?"_

"She is!" The third woman shouted.

Clara sighed. She was Peter's bride, not Patrick's bride.

* * *

Clara waited outside the doors, waiting for the music to start, and would then walk down alone. She was alone at this moment. She could run away, hide, find a ship and go back to her home. But there were possibilities of failure in that plan and then what would happen?

The bride music began. Clara had the doors opened for her and saw that it was Patrick at the alter with the priest. She sighed and began walking down the lonely aisle. Each step she took, her freedom was being stripped. She held back the sadness, but her heart broke with each step. By the time she had reached the alter she felt her soul and heart on the edge of a cliff, dangling for life.

The priest began. "We gather here today to join the spiritual union of this man and this woman. Today they have chosen to pledge a promise before God. In becoming husband and wife you give yourselves to each other for life. You promise to be true and faithful, to support and cherish each other until death, so that your years together will be the living out in love of the pledge you now make. May your love for each other reflect the enduring love of Christ for his Church. Now as you are about to exchange your marriage vows, the Church wishes to be assured that you appreciate the meaning of what you do, and so I ask you; Have you come here of your own free will and choice and without compulsion to marry each other?"

"We have." Patrick said. He slightly looked at Clara for her answer.

"We have." She said. Her soul took a baby step off the edge, holding onto heart heart tightly.

"Will you love and honor each other in marriage all the days of your life?" The priest continued.

"We will." Patrick said.

"We will." Clara said. Her soul took another baby step off the edge, holding onto heart heart tightly.

"Are you willing to accept with love the children God may send you, and bring them up in accordance with the law of Christ and his Church?" The priest asked.

"We will." Patrick said.

"We will." Clara said. Her soul took a third baby step off the edge, holding onto heart heart tightly.

"We now will hold the exchange of the rings," The priest announced to the empty church. Clara and Patrick turned to the man and woman, each standing next to the bride and groom, and took the wedding rings. "Patrick, will you please place the ring on Clara's finger and repeat after me,"

Patrick picked up Clara's hand and held the ring near her finger. The priest said the words and Patrick repeated them after wards. "I, Patrick Pennington, take thee Clara as my wife. To love and to hold in this life and forever more. To care for you in sickness and in health, to never stray form you and to show you my love through God and show God in our marriage." He said as he placed the ring on her finger and held her hand while finishing the words.

"Clara, will you please place the ring on Patrick's finger and repeat after me,"

Clara picked up Patrick's hand and held the ring near her finger. The priest said the words and Clara repeated them after wards. Each word she said, though, burned her soul to ashes. "I, Clara Stranton, take thee Patrick as my husband. To love and to hold in this life and forever more. To care for you in sickness and in health, to never stray form you and to show you my love through God and show God in our marriage." Shes said as he placed the ring on his finger and held his hand while finishing the words. Her soul was on the very, very, very edge, clinging to her heart more tightly than ever.

"Bless this marriage and forever bless their spirits," The priest announced. "I now pronounce thee husband and wife. Patrick, you may release the veil and kiss your bride."

The auburn man smiled and he turned to his newly wife. He lifted the veil, cupped her face softly and pulled her face towards his.

Their lips connected.

Clara's soul and heart had fallen off the edge.

* * *

 **Oh no! Poor Clara!**

 **Credit to the website where I found the wedding vows.**


	11. Nightmares

**_Guest:_ Yes, I realize that writing on a document makes it valid, but I wanted to write the actual wedding scene since it made it more dramatic and heartbreaking for Clara.**

 **Also, I just realized that I've been writing Str _a_ nton, not Stanton. I apologize for the mistake.**

* * *

Clara woke up with another nightmare. She learned to not yell though. Patrick was strict with that detail of their marriage, as well as many other things.

* * *

As soon as Patrick and Clara married and she signed away her first married name, Clara Helen Stranton, and took her new name; Clara Helen Pennington, the duo went on their vivid, short honeymoon in Paris. The trip to Paris was far too long for Clara, who had thought the ship was a far travel. St. David's to London, to taking another mode of transportation to get to Paris. It took almost the rest of the day for Clara, who had fallen asleep twice during the trip to save energy.

Clara felt lost. She _was_ lost in this city. She had no idea what anyone was telling her or just plain saying in general terms (Patrick literally had to do all the talking for her). She just kept quiet and timid hoping this trip would be short. But she did enjoy the beautiful sights and inside one of the stores, she found cards that people sent as letters. She smiled. "Abigail," She smiled. A perfect plan! Once she resided in her new house back in England, she would send that letter to Abigail and in a possible month, Clara would be rescued. The marriage stuff could be a problem, but she'll walk over the trouble waters when it came time to walk over the trouble waters.

Patrick was kind for the first three days of their week long honeymoon. He helped guide her across the city and interpreted the language barrier between Clara and the Parisians. He sweet spoke with his bride and made her smile, but inside of Clara where there should be a heart, there was nothing but dead empty space.

The fourth night was when Clara learned what to expect in this marriage.

Clara was silently reading a book she had found, one of the rare ones that were in the language she could easily read. It didn't interest her too much, but she had nothing else to do and couldn't read anything else since it was all in French. It was late at night, close to eleven thirty. Patrick had retired to sleep two hours earlier. Clara had trouble falling asleep when she retired to be an hour after him, so she decided to not sleep at all.

A brighter light came on and Clara turned up to find Patrick walking from the bedroom to the small living room in their honeymoon home. "Why are you still up?" He yawned.

"I had trouble sleeping." Clara said to him. "I found this book. It's quite interesting."

"Truthfully?"

"Well, it's the only one in English that I can read. So I would have to find it quite interesting," She said with a small smile, then her eyes darted back into the book.

It was silent for a few moments, then Patrick spoke. "Clara, come back to bed and sleep."

"I'm not tired." Clara looked up again.

"You'll be asleep all day tomorrow and we're climbing to the top of the tower."

"I will be good to climb tomorrow even if I stay awake all night." Clara said. "I'll go to bed if I find myself asleep." She said, sweet toned. She then put her eyes back into the pages of the book.

It was quiet again for a moment. Clara then heard stomping and felt the book she was reading be slapped out of her hands, then two arms locking her in the seat and a pair of angry, heartless eyes stare straight into her frightened eyes.

"I will not _have_ a fatigued wife on my hands at any point tomorrow," Patrick said in a low, angry tone. "Go. To. Bed." He said each word slowly.

Clara nodded, afraid to make him more angry, and stood up rapidly. He pulled on her wrist into the bedroom where their bed was. "Lay down!" He ordered.

Clara laid on her side of the bed, facing the open window to look at the half moon. She felt the footsteps of Patrick leave the room for a good few minutes and then return after turning the lights off. She felt the weight of the bed increase and shift, then felt Patrick warm up close to Clara and soon sleep.

Clara still remained awake all night. Trying to not cry.

* * *

That was only the beginning. The rest of the honeymoon went well. Upon their return to London, Clara was told of her duties as a wife. Patrick had hired a woman to help with the cooking since Clara had mentioned that cooking was not her greatest skill, but Clara was to be responsible to preparing and serving the dinner. Also keeping the house clean and up to shape; beds made, furniture cleaned, making sure clothes were washed and organized.

This was all new to Clara. She'd done work similar to this before, but the specifics of this work were new to her. And challenging too.

The first night, Clara had served dinner a little late since she had trouble making the soup. Patrick was _not_ happy about it. He picked up the bowl and tossed it at Clara. She dodged it and huddled as Patrick stood over her, yelling at her and calling her mean names that made her feel bad. He then pulled her up with force and practically threw her into the kitchen to start clean up. Clara made sure to take forever so that she wouldn't have to face him again.

Later that night when Clara laid in bed, she felt Patrick's body fill the bed. She felt him shift closer to her. She sensed something odd with him. This vibe that he had on him, sharing it to her, was uncomfortable.

That night was _that_ night. The same night she was suppose to have with her real love, Peter. She had no idea if she was suppose to feel something with Patrick after it was done, but she felt nothing in her that made her feel happy or in love with him. She just laid there, awake all night, staring at the ceiling and praying for the day that Patrick goes back to work so she could send her post card to Abigail and be rescued.

The following night Clara had nightmare. She woke up screaming in bloody horror. Patrick awoke and slapped her across the face to make her shut up. Clara, again, had trouble sleeping after that. In the morning during breakfast Patrick had strictly told her that he needed a full night of sleep. In other words, no screaming.

Over the course of the month Clara had to learn all of these strict, marriage duties of being a housewife in an upper class family. She recalled stories that Elizabeth had told, but Elizabeth's life was far more of a paradise than this family. She assumed Elizabeth's mother had these same duties of being a housewife, yet Clara felt like Elizabeth's mother might have been in a better situation with a family that wasn't so mean.

* * *

Clara laid back in the bed and tried to stay awake, but she _needed_ to sleep. She nearly fell asleep three times yesterday during house duties and was only woken up because of sounds from outside the house. Patrick, thankfully, was back at work in his business company.

She fell asleep with a smile on her face. She had sent her letter to Abigail a few days ago while Patrick was out at work. She detailed every single thing that happened to her the moment she left Hope Valley. Maybe Bill could help her again like had done before.


	12. Glowing News

Eight sunrises had rose and set and Clara was still unaware of anything going on with herself. She felt sick to her stomach every night because she ate a lot during the day and she felt like her body was on fire even though the country hasn't hit it's hottest days yet.

No word from Abigail yet. Shouldn't she have gotten the letter by now?

* * *

One rare afternoon Clara had the chance to go out. She was going to try and bake a cake tonight for Patrick, since it was his forty-third birthday. She had the list of the baking needs that she needed and walked out the door, down the few roads to the local store where she would buy her things.

Clara took her sweet time walking around the store and looking at different things offered. The various of smells reminded her of Abigail's cooking. Oh, how Clara missed her mother's cooking. And her birth mother too, Josephine's, cooking as well. Clara picked up a few things and walked to the front.

A girl about Clara's age stood in front of her. She was humming a tune that sounded very nice to Clara. She didn't seem to noticed that her hand had released the basket in her hand, causing everything to fall out. "Shoot!" She said and began to pick the stuff up.

The girl in front of her turned around. "Here, I'll help you." She said, she had a somewhat sweet and loveable Irish accent.

"Thank you," Clara said as she put the apple into her basket. Clara noticed that the girl looked a lot like Harry, almost identical. Same hair color, same face shape and similar eye color; though this girl's eyes looked a bit more green than Harry's blue-green toned eyes.

The girl peeked up and, still smiling, said to Clara, "Oh I'm flattered by your staring."

"Oh, pardon me." Clara blushed. "You just happen to look a lot like this boy I met a while ago and I haven't seen him since we landed in England."

"Oh do not worry. I've been told I look like so many people, I can go about and do bad things and I, myself, will never be blamed." She giggled as she put the last of the basket items back into Clara's basket. The two girls stood up and the auburn hair colored girl saw Clara's necklace. She gawked at Clara's necklace, the rosary bead one, and said, "Where'd you get that rosary?"

Clara looked down at her necklace. She smiled sweetly. "This boy I met on the ship. He gave it to me as a gift."

The other girl smiled. "I know that one from almost anywhere. That old Harry O'Malley."

Clara tilted her head. "You know Harry?"

"I've know him since the second he came into the world, three minutes after me." The girl said with a laugh. "Harry is my twin."

"Oh, you're his sister he mentioned on the ship." Clara smiled. "It's nice to meet you."

"My names Fiona O'Malley." She said and shook hands with Clara. "You're Clara then."

"How did you know my name?"

Fiona smiled. "A girl who voice sounds funny, but a real beautiful face and pretty brown locks of hair." Clara gave a sheepish smile. "And you have a wonderful glow too."

Clara looked at her weirdly. "A glow?"

"Yes, a nice one." Fiona said.

What glow? Did Clara have a glow? She was unsure how she was glowing when all she felt was depressed and usually unhappy.

* * *

Clara purchased her things and left the store. She heard someone running up to her and she turned, only to find it was Fiona.

"I'm going this way too." She said. "I'm heading back home to get dinner started for Pa and Harry."

"Where are they?" Clara asked.

"Pa works at this pub place as a drink server. Harry helps out in the back with the dishes."

"What about your mother?" Clara asked.

"She passed a few years ago." Fiona said. "She accidentally fell off a dock when delivering food with her friend, to her friends husband, and drowned."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Thank you." Fiona said.

* * *

The two girls walked in silence for a few more moments with Fiona pointing out a few places to Clara that she and her brother and their friends liked to hang. Clara smiled. At least if she ever wanted to get out of the house, she had some places to meet up with Fiona and or Harry or their friends.

The two girls came to the spot where they would split up. "It was nice to meet you, Fiona."

"Same to you, Clara." Fiona said. "My Pa works down this street, then take a left at the very end before hitting the bakery. Come by any time to chat. I'm there helping my brother sometimes."

"Thank you." Clara said. "Tell Harry I said 'hello'."

"Will do."

"Fiona?" Clara had a question on her mind for a while now. "What did you mean by I had a great glow?"

"The same glow my Pa said my Ma had when she was expecting us." Fiona smiled. "Goodbye Clara."

Clara waved at her new friend, but was frozen. Expecting. She knew that word too well.

Of course! She recalled the stories Abigail told her about when she was expecting Peter, and then some of Clara's old friends from Hamilton when they married and started having babies.

Clara looked down at her abdomen and gently placed her hand there. She wasn't sure yet exactly if she was expecting, but all the things added up now to her. She smiled sweetly, thinking about it.

"Baby." She said softly.

* * *

 **Oh goodness, Clara's pregnant!**


	13. 4 Months

**4 Months.**

* * *

Over the course of the next four or five months Clara found that being pregnant was both excited and exhausting.

She throw up every morning and every night, sick to her stomach. She was told this was nomral and might stop in a few months. How wrong she was told.

Sometimes when she was laying down, especially at night, she felt the baby kicking. She loved feeling the little one kick her at night. She would rub her hand over her abdomen and cradle the unborn child. When she was alone during the day she would speak to her child.

"I am so excited to see you. I love you no matter what, my love." She would say. "I love you so much. You are already my handsome son or my beautiful daughter." Clara did not care if she had a little boy or a little girl; she loved this baby more than she loved to sew.

Patrick, on his end, had hoped it would be a little boy. No, actually, he had a gut feeling that Clara was carrying a boy. "The Pennington men gene is strong. Ten descendants going strong." He had told her one night, after diner. He was sitting on his chair and smoking a cigar.

"What if your little boy is a little girl?" Clara asked as she finished sewing a baby blanket she had started a while ago.

"I guess that would be fine," Patrick said. He did not sound pleased at all. "But gene for Pennington baby boys is a strong gene."

* * *

They had had a similar conversation a few days after that. Same thing, right after dinner as Patrick smoked a cigar and Clara patched up a hole that Patrick had in his arm sleeve of his jacket. This night, they spoke of names.

"I like George for a name. My grandfather's name was George and his father and his father before. My mother's eldest brother's name was also George and his wife's brother, father and grandfather was also George. George Pennington. George Patrick Pennington. What do you think?"

"I do like that name," Clara smiled. "George is such a sweet name for him." She put her work on her lap and said, "Have you thought of any names for a girl?"

"Girl?" Patrick asked, his tone of voice was that of offense. "What girl?"

"If we don't have George, than we'll have a baby girl." Clara explained. "I love Rebecca and Anne for names, so I was thinking Rebecca Anne."

"Why would _he_ have such a female name?" Patrick sneered, looking utterly disgusted.

"Because it's possible that we're having a daughter."

"It's a boy." Patrick said. "George."

"It could be a girl." Clara said. Patrick glared at her. "If you still like the name George, we could give her a name that's a variant of George for a girl. Maybe Georgina? Georgette?"

Patrick glared at her for a few more seconds. He slowly ascended up from his chair and walked over to the brunette, hovering over her. Patrick raised his hand and smacked her across the face. Clara winced in pain and held her cheek, holding back tears.

"We are _not_ going to name _him_ some silly girl name such as Georgette. Only those born without brains come up with such ideas. I did not choose to marry a brainless woman."

Clara, without thinking, responded, "You did choose me. You set your men out to find a bride and then buy me like I'm an object. I'm not an object!"

Again, Patrick slapped her across her face. "Do not speak such tone at me!"

Clara was thankful for her long sleeve dresses. They hid the bruises she had, new ones every day. Red marks from being slapped too on her arms. She only had these given since she was carrying the child of the man she was forced to marry, but that didn't stop him from his abuse. He was, most times, much worse to her than before. Patrick continued to make her feel worthless and like she was nothing but an object to please him when he felt like being pleased.

* * *

Clara was glad, though, that she was able to leave the house sometimes and get fresh air. Her favorite days were with her two auburn red hair friends, Fiona and Harry. They made her so happy when she visited them at their work or at their teeny, tiny home where they lived with their father, Thomas (Tommy) O'Malley. Tommy was the opposite of his children. Harry and Fiona were lively, cheery and talkative (They reminded Clara of Rosemary) whereas the dark, brown haired Tommy was silent and observed, but always gentle and kind to everyone. Clara loved Tommy as sort of a father figure. He reminded her of her own father. Tommy enjoyed Clara's company when she was around.

"You remind me of me late wife, Catherine. Good in high spirits, even when low in sadness. The only wee difference is Catherine's hair was red, her eyes bright as the sky and stood shorter than Fiona, even in shoes." Tommy told Clara upon first meeting her.

The trio O'Malley family treated and loved Clara like she was one of their own. Harry had managed to get Clara to come out one night with them and enjoy a party where Fiona and Tommy both played their violin. Tommy had helped make one for Fiona a few years back, but Tommy's gold violin was handed down from generation to generation, since the beginning of time when violins began to be made. Clara enjoyed their music very well.

* * *

Of course that night ended with Clara walking into the house, escorted by Harry, and Patrick assuming that Clara was straying from him. Clara had never imagined being beaten before, so the emotions that Clara had in that bedroom, stripped down completely, as Patrick whipped her bare back with his belt—they were unbelievable to expression.

Patrick left her alone after that, out for the whole night. Clara tried to bathe in lukewarm water, but her belt wounds hurt her. She laid in bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Holding her rosary necklace she prayed. "I trust you, God. I know you have a plan for every person. I just don't know why it is taking so long for Abigail to respond back to me? I have sent many, many letters and not hear from her once. She is not one to ignore letters from friends and family, so I doubt her late son's wife and another good friend of her's would be any different." She felt her voice choke up a bit, tears streaming down her face. "Please, please, I ask you God. I beg you God, please help me."


	14. Voices Be Heard

The next month Clara stayed inside her home for nearly the whole month. The only time she had left was when she had gone out to see the doctor for a pregnancy checkup. Patrick had avoided speaking and spending time with Clara. The only time that Patrick spend time with Clara was at night for married business and then slept.

At the end of the month Clara managed to get out and walked to where the O'Malley family worked. She walked in and sat in her usual seat waiting for either Fiona or Harry to show up. Not too long after Clara entered inside she saw a man, about Tommy's age, walking inside with two little children by his side. Clara presumed the boy and girl were the exact age. The man looked around for a bit and spotted Clara as the only woman in the pub. He looked a little confused, probably because he had never seen a woman in a pub before, but walked over with the children.

"Excuse me, do you mind watching my children for a bit while I look for someone possibly in here." He asked Clara. He accent wasn't like anyone else that she knew, it sounded more like an American accent of some sorts.

"I'd be happy too." The expecting mother said. The man helped both children into the seat across from Clara and then hurried off to the back of the pub.

"What's your name?" The boy asked.

"My name is Clara." She said with a warm smile.

"I'm Bert. I'm named after my daddy," The boy said. "This is my sister, Gwen." He pointed to the little girl in the pink dress. "Daddy is looking for our big sister."

"Oh." Clara said. A few moments later, they all heard screaming and moments after Clara saw the man again, dragging a teenage girl with him. She looked a few years younger than the twenty-five year old mother to be, about nineteen.

"That's her." The boy said.

"Father, release me at once!" The girl with pale blonde hair said loudly. "I was just speaking with her!"

"You attempted to get more girls to follow through and I am not having you in jail again!" The man announced.

"I will go to jail as much as it takes to get my voice heard, father!" The girl spat and whipped her hand out of her father's.

"You are cursing the family, Gabriella." He said.

"Woman were cursed to not have a voice." Gabriella announced. "I want Gwen and my daughters and Bert's daughters and your granddaughters and mother's granddaughters to grow up and have their voice heard by everyone. I want future woman to be able to have a voice."

"Is your friend joining you?" He asked her.

"Her body isn't able to join, but her spirit is joining us to have our voices heard."

"You have silly ideas."

"It is not a silly idea, father."

"You are right. It's a stupid idea." He told her. "If you get jailed I am not coming for you."

"I will jail myself to have my voice heard." Gabriella said again, more sternly than before. Both of them looked at one another in the eye before the older man spat in her face and walked away, calling for the two children to follow along.

Once he was gone, Clara looked over at the blonde girl who wiped off the spit. "Are you okay?" Clara asked.

The blonde girl, Gabriella, looked over at Clara. "My spirit is not broken if that is what you wonder." She answered. She walked over to Clara. "May I sit here?"

"Of course." Clara said.

"Thank you."

"I'm Clara."

"Gabriella White, named after the angel Gabriel." Gabriella smiled.

"What was that about?"

"That is my father." She answered. "He's a very kind man, but he worries. He'll stay anything to not have anyone he cares for hurt."

"What scares him?"

"My going to join rallies. For women to vote." She said. Clara nodded. She's heard about these events since she married. She loved the idea, but worried about getting physically hurt from both police and Patrick if he learned about it. "I've been going to these for a while now and the last three I ended up in jail. The last time I was in there for two months."

"What was it like?"

"I had a tube shoved in me and forced to eat." Gabriella explained. "But I will do as it takes to get my voice and my sisters voice heard."

"Was that them with your father?"

"Yes. Gwendolyn and Gilbert White Jr. Bert for short. Father is Gilbert and mother is Gwendolyn, called Wendy by her friends." Gabriella told her. "I'm doing what I can before I leave to join mother back in the United States to help care for Grandmother and Grandfather."

"Were you speaking to Fiona?"

"Yes. She wants her voice and her future daughter's voices heard too. She's unable to come tonight due to family matters, but she's there in spirit."

Clara sheepishly smiled. "I like that idea too. Back home where I lived, the woman in my town did speak up. My mother in law, Abigail, was the biggest voice."

"Really?"

"Yes." Clara told her with a warm smile. "The coal mine where she lives, there was an explosion and many of the married men and their sons died. When the widows were about to lose their homes, Abigail suggested that the widows work in the mines to keep their homes. So she and the widows worked to keep their homes."

Gabriella smiled. "Sounds like they're heading in the right direction for freedom."

Clara smiled back.

"May I ask how far you are?" Gabriella wondered.

"Six months at least." The brunette answered. "I'm due around Christmas."

"Perfect timing."

"I just pray for a healthy baby." Clara said.

"Hopefully if she's a girl, she'll have her voice before the last day of the year." Gabriella said with a wink, making Clara laugh.

A short time after that Gabriella left to meet with a friend before going back to the friends home, she was not allowed back in her own house with her father and siblings. Clara sat there alone in silence waiting a bit longer before having to back. She had thought about all the events that took place these woman took to get the right to vote, to get their voices heard. She heard about the protests and breaking windows and mail boxes blowing up. She saw all the dangerous things they did to get noticed to speak up for their voices.

It all reminded Clara of Hope Valley.

When would she get home?


	15. Christmas

Several more months passed and Clara was depressed. She had no idea why Abigail hasn't answered any of her letters? She was just about sure that, possibly, Abigail thinks that she ran away. It's an outrageous thought to have in mind, but from Hope Valley's perspective; Clara and the man everyone knew as Murphy seemed friendly with one another and now they were both gone.

Poor Abigail. Poor Jesse too.

* * *

What Clara loved the most about the street she lived on was that it was the main way to the school where little children attended. Clara would stand outside and watch the little boys and little girls walk their way to the school house every morning. Some of them skipped to school and others ran to the school in a race with their friends. A couple of the little girls would hold hand with their best friends as they walked to the school together. Of course since the city was large, there would be a couple of mothers and a few fathers walking all the children together to keep them safe on the way to the school.

The riots in the city were still the same for several months. Women holding rallies, blowing up mail boxes, getting arrested and being held in jail (sometimes) for a full month before being released into society. Clara attended a few of the events with her friends Fiona and Gabriella, but stood far, far away as possible so that if anything violent happened, Clara could get herself and her unborn child out of harms way.

She'd get home and sometimes would find Patrick there asking her where she's been, if she had strayed from him or if she has told anyone about how and why she is living here in England. Clara would would be honest and tell him that none of those things had happened. Patrick usually believed her, but mostly didn't either and would slap her across the cheek.

Clara had gotten use to them by now.

December had came around and Clara was sitting in her home, alone, while Patrick was out with his friends. He'd usually come home drunk with a need to lay with Clara in bed and then fall asleep after so. She kept glancing at the clock and found it to be near eight at night. She sighed and looked down at her large abdomen. "Do you want to go visit our friends, baby?" She asked with s soft smile.

* * *

Clara escaped the home slowly and walked the snowy streets of December 23. She was due almost any day now so she took as much time as she could off of her feet and rested, content that she didn't do as much housework as she did earlier in the year. Clara slowly made her way to the pub where the O'Malley family were holding a Christmas celebration with close friends and family.

She walked in and found the pub to be filled with all the friends and family of the O'Malley family. She caught up with Harry up front and sat next to him. "Hello Harry." Clara said.

"Oh, Clara! Top of the evening for you," Harry smiled. "Where's your lovely husband?"

"He is out with his friends for the night. Tomorrow we're going to his aunt and uncles Christmas party. I don't think I can make it though since I'm about to have this little angel any day soon." Clara said.

"Good. I'm dying to meet your wee one." Harry smiled. "Gabriella left the jail today."

"That's good. Is she coming here?"

"Hope so." Harry said. "I haven't seen her in two months. Last time I saw her, she was thin as a wee bit of string." He then spotted his twin talking to a cousin of theirs. "Fiona!"

Fiona turned and saw her brother with her friend and waved at them, finished her conversation, then walked over to join them. "Where's the wee one?"

"Not here." Clara laughed softly.

* * *

A little over a while passed and Clara, who was having fun, sat outside and getting fresh air. She looked up at the dazzling stars and bright moon as snow fell from the sky. "I pray that Abigail doesn't think I ran off. Why has she not gotten my letters yet?"

"Is this seat taken?" A voice called out to Clara. She turned and found Tommy standing next to her. She shook her head. "Thanks." He said and sat next to her. "Having fun?"

"Oh, it's a great party. I love everyone inside. They're so nice." Clara told Tommy. "It's just—"

"You miss your own family."

"Yes."

Tommy was silent for a moment and then said, "Where is it you live again? Hope Valley?" Clara nodded. "Is that anywhere near Nova Scotia? I went there once about twenty years ago with a friend for about a month."

"Not very close to Hope Valley, but much closer than London is to Hope Valley." The brunette said. "I just can't understand why Abigail hasn't responded to me. I've sent her a letter every week since I've arrived here."

"Oh, maybe she's just mad that you left her alone with crazy drunks to come live here." Tommy laughed. He noticed, however, Clara didn't. "You did tell her you moved, correct?"

"Not exactly." She said in sadness.

Tommy studied her face and saw she was very upset with something in her mind. "What made you decide to move here?" He questioned. Before Clara came up with an excuse, he added on. "And don't be lying to me while your wearing my dead wife's rosary cross necklace around your neck."

Clara held the cross in her hands. "I met this man in Hope Valley. His name is Owen and he turned out to be a liar about everything."

"How so?"

Clara found it in her heart to tell him. If she was going to live here forever, she had to tell someone the truth. She told him just about every detail she knew by heart. Being trick to see something and being knocked out, waking up tied up in a barn with two other girls, her refusal to eat, then being placed on a ship to England and then up being forced to marry Patrick Pennington or else she'd be murdered. She told Tommy of her wanting to be with her family, Abigail, again and her friends in Hope Valley.

By the end of the truth, Clara found herself sobbing in her hands. Her body shook from the emotions and bitter cold of the December night. She felt am embrace of both warmth and fatherly arms comforting her.

"That's a story." Tommy said. "So much in wee little time. I can't even imagine it."

"I just want to go home." Clara said, still sobbing. "I am so grateful that I met Harry on the ship and becoming friends with him. Then meeting Fiona and you and our other friend, Gabriella White. I'm so thankful that I've made good friends while I was here, but I miss my home so much."

Tommy brushed back some of her hair and kissed the tip of her head. "You'll be home one day. Just keep dreaming, hoping and wishing."

"I'll try."

* * *

The two of them stayed on the bench, Tommy rubbing Clara to keep her warm as she subsided her tears. After a couple of minutes Clara heard Tommy humming. It was a very sweet song, one that she has never heard before. She listened to it closely as he continued to him it. She loved the tune. "Pardon me, Tommy," She interrupted and leaned up from his arms. Tommy stopped and turned to her. "What is that song you were just humming?"

"A song that I heard a year ago. I heard it on some Broadway show that Fiona dragged me to see with her," He smiled. "I like the tune of it and the idea of being in a flying machine sounds wonderful and fun."

"A flying machine?"

Tommy nodded and then sang the words softly to her. " _Come Josephine in my flying machine Going up she goes! Up she goes! Balance yourself like a bird on a beam In the air she goes! There she goes! Up, up, a little bit higher Oh my! The moon is on fire! Come Josephine in my flying machine Going up, all on, Goodbye!"_

Clara found herself to be grinning. "That sounds like a beautiful song."

"The whole thing is good. Have Fiona sing it sometime, she's gifted with a music voice from her mother."

"And violin playing from her father."

"Good gracious, what the hell was Harry gifted with other than being an old ass to his old man?" Tommy laughed.

"I also like Josephine as a name." Clara said. "It was my mother's name."

"Is the wee one going to be a Josephine or Joseph then?"

Clara shrugged. "I don't know. We have George as a boys name and Patrick is very sure that it's a boy."

"What do you feel?"

"A healthy baby." She smiled. "I just want a healthy baby. But, I guess I'll have too look at her and see what she looks like."

"Good idea. Just hope it's one and not two like me wife and I. That'll be a handful."

* * *

Later in the hours Clara was on her way home, escorted by Harry by her side. The lights were still off which meant that Patrick hadn't come home yet. That seemed good. Harry walked her to the front door. "See you in the morning I hope." Harry said.

"Thank you," Clara said. She then felt a sharp pain in her side and cringed. "Ouch."

"You okay?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I'm—" Another sharp pain came, Clara cringed again and held her torso. "Ouch!"

"Geeze, let's get you inside to rest."

Resting never helped. Clara still felt sharp pain every couple of minutes. Harry tried to help her, but nothing helped. It wasn't until Clara felt something below her that reached her ankles. "Oh..." She said.

"What is it?" Harry asked, holing a wet rag in his hands and placed it on her forehead. "You okay?"

"Harry, can you do me a favor?"

"Yes?"

"Can you go back to the pub and get...ouch...your aunt with ten children for me?"

"Why?"

"I think someone is joining us pretty soon."

* * *

 **I know this chapter seemed a bit rushed, I'm sorry about that.**

 **So, what did you think Clara is going to have? George or a little girl?**

 **Song: Come Josephine in my Flying Machine.**

 **Sung by: Blanche Ring**

 **Lyrics: Alfred Bryan**

 **Music: Fred Fisher.**


	16. A Special Christmas Eve

**Time to meet a little Christmas gift.**

* * *

Nine grueling hours of labor Clara was near the end of pushing. She had several women in the room with her, helping her out as she pushed. The pain hurt her greatly and she wanted this part of labor to be over with soon enough.

"Keep pushing, Clara. I see a head!" The aunt shouted.

"Ugh!" Clara yelled, pushing harder. "Is it out?"

"Almost. Just three more pushes."

Clara pushed harder, squeezing one woman's hand harder than she could ever imagine. She took a quick breathe after the second push and then pushed harder once more. In a few minutes of the final push, the sound of a cry was heard.

"It's a boy!" The aunt shouted as the baby kept crying.

Clara felt her face brighten as her newborn child was rising at the exact same time as dawn was rising. For such a small and pudgy looking baby, he was the most handsome little man in Clara's life. She lifted her arms up to take her child, but he was taken out of the room. "Where is he going?" She asked in a sudden panic.

"Just being cleaned up a bit," The aunt said. "He'll join his mommy in a bit."

"Oh. Oka—AH!" The new mother shouted in sharp pain. She felt another wave of pain go through her body.

The aunt took a rapid look and then back to Clara. "Clara, I need you to push again."

"What!?" Clara cried out.

"I need you to push once more." She replied. "There's another head."

"Another baby?" Clara was in shock. Twins? She was having twins? But she had seen women who ended up having twins, or triplets in one case, and they were not as big as Clara was right now. She heard the aunt yell at her to start pushing again.

Three minutes later, another newborn cry was heard throughout the room. "It's a girl!" Someone announced as they held up the newborn. Just as pudgy looking as her brother and she was beautiful to his handsome, but she was bigger in size compared to her brother.

They took her away to clean her up as well while Clara rested after being told she was no longer pregnant with another child. She smiled faintly looking in the direction where the babies were taken and counted the seconds until they were in her arms.

* * *

Several hours later as the church bells rang for Christmas eve and children outside played in the snow with their friends, Clara rested on her bed alone with each twin in her arm. Patrick was no where in sight yet, but she hoped he'd come home soon to see the new little ones in their lives.

The little ones were wide awake and kept their eyes on the woman who held them. Clara softly laughed at the two of them. "A new world, isn't it my loves?" She asked them. "My little handsome boy, George Patrick Donald Pennington." She had stuck with the original name but had added Donald as he was born just as dawn was began, the beginning of a new day. "And my little beautiful girl—"

There was a bang as the door opened suddenly. "Clara?" He looked at her and saw her with two arms holding blankets. "Where is he?"

"He's in my right arm, Patrick." Clara answered. "George." She told him as Patrick came closer.

Patrick picked up the sweet little thing and stared at him. "He looks exactly like me, minus your nose. He's a pudgy little guy, isn't he?"

"Like his sister," Clara said as she now held their daughter in both arms. Patrick glanced at her holding the blanket covered newborn. "She was a tiny bundle of a surprise."

"She's cute." Patrick said but with little care in his voice. He took a look back at George and said, "I'm taking this little one to see my friends."

"It's chilly and he's not a day old yet."

"I know that, brainless." Patrick spat at Clara. "They're downstairs waiting."

"Okay." Clara said softly. "Do you wish to take—"

Before she could finish, Patrick was already out of the room with George. Clara sighed and glanced down at the little girl in her arms. "Daddy was just excited to have a son these whole nine months. He loves you too, I promise." She smiled at the baby. "You are such a sweet little girl."

* * *

Later in the night after several feedings, alone since Patrick was out celebrating, Clara tucked in the twins into the share little crib they had. "Goodnight my handsome George Patrick Donald," She said and kissed his forehead. She then picked up her daughter from the main bed and placed her next to her brother. Clara kissed her little forehead. "Goodnight my beautiful Josephine Hope."

* * *

 **Aw, George and Josephine.**


	17. Losing and Lost

Clara had always thought that her friends joked about the first few days of parenting were a nightmare, but it was a nightmare that was real. Now add in a second child. Real hell.

She had some help of course but she was usually alone with them all day. She knew Patrick had long work hours and came home hungry then a smoke and bed, but he rarely checked on her or Josephine. He just checked on George and George alone. She understood that he craved for a boy and they were blessed with George, but she wished that Patrick paid some attention to Josephine as well.

At least Clara gave equal attention to her little babies. Even if they did drive her crazy. When one was sleeping, the other was wide awake crying loudly. Once that baby was soothed, the former sleeping twin would wake up and cause a stir in the room. They were both hungry at the same time and they soil in their diapers at the same time too. At least for bedtime, they went to sleep easily.

Clara would sit in the chair by the bassinet at the foot of the bed and watch the two of them for some time before she went to her own bed. She probably would get up five times each night to care for one or both of the children, but after the fifth time Clara would have her last two hours of sleep before starting a new day.

An entire week had passed and Clara had just finished feeding Josephine and George and placing them in their little bed. Patrick was out, again, with his friends doing God knows what with them. Clara knelt by her bed, folded her hands together and said her nightly prayers.

When she finished her usual prayer of health for herself, her children, her friends and the whole world, Clara looked up at the Heaven above. "I trust you with all of my heart and even my soul, Father. But I am beginning to doubt that I will be saved anytime soon. Abigail should of received my letters by now and come get me. Either herself or with the help of someone who is good with these things, like Bill Avery, when he helped me get out of the debt I was stuck in back in Hamilton," She sighed and looked down at her entwined hands. "I'm starting to lose faith in almost everything. I'll try to keep my faith up and keep trusting you with my heart and soul, Father, but the light is dimming every day that passes here in London."

* * *

When Clara awoke the next morning, the morning of 1912, she found that Patrick was not in the bed. She was surprised. Patrick would have been home by now. Clara rolled out of the bed and walked over to the bassinet. She peered in and saw that Josephine was wide awake while George continued to sleep. He's never slept in this late. Clara placed her finger under his nose and waited to feel air hit her finger.

She felt air on her finger and smiled. "Good morning, Josephine," Clara whispered as she lifted up Josephine. "Let's give George some time to sleep some more," She smiled. "Are you hungry, little one?"

Clara changed Josephine's diaper and fed her. When she finished and stood up and looked down into the bassinet again. George still slept. Clara placed her finger under his nose and waited. Yes, still alive.

She kept Josephine swaddled in a blanket and placed her in the center of the main bed and got ready for the whole day. When she finished an hour later, she checked on George for a third time. Still sleeping, still alive. If he wasn't up in an hour than Clara would wake him just to give him breakfast.

Clara went downstairs with Josephine, still wrapped in her blanket, in one arm. She looked for Patrick and saw that he was not down here. She shrugged and walked into the kitchen to place Josephine in a second bassinet that was downstairs.

* * *

A half hour later after eating a small breakfast, Clara was cleaning the dishes and occasionally tickling Josephine's foot with her fingers. Clara cleaned a plate and checked the Grandfather clock to keep an eye on the time. She still had twenty minutes to go before waking George, but she felt odd. She released the cloth and the dish and stared at the clock.

"Something isn't right." She muttered. Clara felt something in her. Something sharp and painful. Clara turned out of the room and hurriedly left the kitchen.

* * *

Clara climbed the stairs to the second floor and entered the bedroom. Without a second to think Clara walked over to the bassinet and peered in on George. He still slept with his little arms resting above him. Clara placed her finger under his nose and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And waited.

She felt George's cheek, feeling how cold it was. "George?" She spoke to the baby. "George?" She called out, a bit louder. She placed her hand on his stomach and gently shook him. "George." She repeated. No response. Rapidly, Clara looked around the room for something large and made out of glass. Clara found the plant pot, a large one, over by the window. She grabbed that, shook out the dirty quickly and then walked back to the bassinet. Standing next to the bassinet, position away so nothing would fly in (then again, the bassinet stood high above the ground), Clara held the pot above her head.

Clara threw the pot and hit the wall, a large 'SMASH' was echoed, as the pot broke into pieces and fell. Clara turned to the bassinet and looked in.

No crying.

Clara's heart began to race as fast as her mind. "George!" She yelled into the bassinet, wanting to frighten her child. "George!" She called out again, a bit louder.

No sounds.

" _ **GEORGE!**_ " She screamed at the top of her lungs, looking into the bassinet in horror and praying for him to cry.

But there was absolutely nothing. No cry, so sobbing, no sound.

Clara was frozen and she couldn't move. She couldn't make a single move at all.

A piece of her heart, her soul, her faith, was dead.

Like her little boy.

* * *

 **I'm so sorry for making a sad chapter :(**


	18. Clara Stanton

It took a lot for Clara to hate. Bothered was easy for the girl, but to hate someone or something took great energy from her. Energy that should be focused onto Josephine.

It had been a week since George's funeral and Clara's heart was still broken. She had no clear idea if it would ever heal. Maybe it was broken forever. She hoped that George was with her parents now and that they were taking great care of him. Her saving grace was that Josephine was with her, still healthy and happy every day. Clara made extra sure to keep an eye on her but Josephine always showed signs of no illness.

Patrick has been gone for days. After the funeral he left for a bar and then never returned home. Clara had no feelings for him, yet felt sad for him. He had lost his son. He had lost the child he wished and wanted from the very beginning; a boy. Now he just had his daughter and being an honest woman, Clara knew that Patrick could care less about Josephine. Horribly, he probably wished all this had happened to Josephine and not George.

She hadn't seen any of her friends. She's just sat alone at home caring and crying. Caring for one child, crying for another. Caring for herself, crying that she was alone. She was so lost and scared but also hurt and with each day passing she was confused. No letters from home yet.

Clara had come to the conclusion that Hope Valley had forgotten and no longer cared for Clara anymore.

* * *

By the end of the week Clara and finished cleaning the last room of the house. It was a bit past seven and Clara walked over to check on her daughter, who was sound asleep in the bassinet. Clara tucked her in a bit with the comforters just as there was a knock on the door. Clara brushed herself as she paced to the door and wiped her hands on the apron.

She opened the door and saw two men, a bit older than her, in police uniforms. "Hello. May I help you?" She asked them.

"Mrs. Pennington?" The first man asked.

"Yes, I'm her." Clara answered.

"I'm Thomas Wilson and this is Ralph St. Michael," The first man said as both officers tipped their hats at the brunette. "We understand that your husband is Patrick Pennington?"

"Yes." She told them with a clear voice. "But he is not home right now. To tell more of the truth, I haven't seen him in a week after the funeral of our son."

"We know," Ralph said. "And we're sorry for your loss. But we need to ask you a few questions down at the officers station."

Clara was a bit anxious about this but she nodded. "I would be more than happy to help you, but my daughter is asleep."

"A daughter?"

"Yes. She'll be a month old on the twenty fourth." She answered. "Is that a problem?"

"No, it's just that Mr. Pennington had mentioned he had a son he lost. He mentioned nothing of a daughter."

That caused Clara to sigh. Even to officers and officials Patrick made no comment of having a daughter. "Would you like to come inside?"

* * *

The three of them sat in the living room. Clara on a chair and the two men on the couch opposite of her. Clara felt extremely anxious. Her hands were trembling and her heart was racing wildly. Was she in trouble?

"So, Mrs. Pennington, what is your first name?" Thomas questioned.

"Clara."

"Clara," Ralph repeated her name. "You have known Patrick Pennington for how long now?"

"Since April of this recent year."

"How did you and Mr. Pennington meet?" Thomas questioned.

Clara gulped. She felt her worries rise up. She couldn't lie to them, but she worried about what would happen if Patrick learned of her speaking the truth.

"Mrs. Pennington, you are aware that you must tell the truth to us and tell us all the details of the questons we're asking you." Thomas explained.

Clara nodded, but said nothing. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the bassinet and knew that laid inside was Josephine sleeping. Clara didn't mind not having freedom (but she wanted it), but Josephine deserved freedom. "I met Patrick at a church."

"A church?"

"Yes. It was my first time meeting him."

"You've never met Mr. Pennington before?" Ralph asked. Clara nodded. "Was it an arranged marriage from both of your parents?"

Clara shook her head.

"If this was not an arranged marriage and that was the day you met Patrick, how long until you married him?"

"I married him that day."

"Without knowing him before?" Thomas inquired.

"Yes." Clara said. "Is there a problem?" Of course there was a problem.

"Clara, what is the name you carried before marrying Patrick?"

"Clara Stranton."

"Mrs. Stranton, your marriage was not legal."


	19. Abbey and Home

Clara faced the two men in front of her. She was lost. She was not legally married to Patrick? But she was sure she was legally married to him. She married in a church (against her will) and she signed a paper that stated she was married to him (against her will).

"I am not married to Patrick?" She repeated.

"Yes ma'me." Thomas told her. "We know that this is a conflicting situation."

"I am lost."

"You see Ms. Clara," Ralph began. "For the past couple of months there has been a group of women who were taken against their wills to marry wealthy men. Whether it was to have a wife, to start a family but did not want to wait for the perfect woman or to help raise children they have with their deceased wife. This is part of the crime of kidnapping, or more so; bride kidnapping."

"How did you learn of this?"

"We have caught several men already in the process of kidnapping women and learned of this. We made deals with them. Give us the other names of men who do this and there will be no harsh punishments, but still some." Ralph answered.

"Did Patrick tell you?"

"Unfortunately no," Thomas added. "Patrick is still in hiding. The following day of the funereal, he was approached by police and, literally, was chased out of the town and into another city. We've alerted the nearby cities of the happenings. But one of the men knew about his wife, you, and gave us details of everything."

"Such as what?"

"A young woman with brown hair and hazel green eyes. A new mother too. Formally lived across the pond in a very small city called Hope Valley."

"What does that mean for myself?" Clara asked. If she was not legally married to Patrick, what was to happen to her.

"First and importantly, you are in no trouble with this whatsoever." Ralph told her. "You and every other women taken hostage are not involved with this doing. Like many of them, I assume there was a threat to your life if you did not agree to marry, correct?" Clara nodded. "Unfortunately, because you are not legally married to Patrick and he is not living in this home, you are to leave at once."

"But I have Josephine to look after!" Clara exclaimed. She never had shouted before, but it was cold and bitter outside and she did not want Josephine to get sick and join her brother with her parents. "Where am I to live?"

"There is an Abbey with nuns that we are cooperating with when it comes to women with a child or children. There is a room for you to live in with your child and are welcome to stay in the Abbey while helping us, just a few more questions for the next few weeks, and then are will welcomed to stay in the Abbey until you are able to return home."

Clara felt her spirit lift. She was free from Patrick! She might be able to have Josephine live with her and not that man Patrick. But how would she be able to get back home to Hope Valley? "After I help you with what I can help with, how can I return to Hope Valley?"

"Well once we find Patrick Pennington and bring him to court, he will forced to take care of you and your child since you are alone. I believe with a good heart that if he can afford to send you back to Hope Valley, he will do so." Thomas explained. "But that does have a downside."

"How so?"

"Once you leave London, he will not have to pay a penny for caring for you and your daughter."

Clara nodded. She wanted out of here more than anything. "I understand. I have an extended family that I could live with when I return home."

"That's good." Ralph said. "We will let you rest tonight and come by tomorrow to escort you to the Abbey in the afternoon."

"Thank you." Clara said and stood up to escort the men out the door.

Ralph and Thomas wished Clara a goodnight and tipped their hats before walking down the steps. Clara smiled brightly after she closed the door and turned back to the kitchen. She picked up Josephine and cradled her in her arms softly.

"We might be going back home very soon, Josephine." She said with a warm smile on her face. "I know that your brother is buried here in a family cemetery, but he will be with us in our hearts. He will be back with us when we go home to Hamilton."

* * *

 **Yay for Clara hopefully going home fairly soon, but oh no. She thinks that Hope Valley has forgotten about her :(**

 **What will happen to Clara now, Hearties?**


	20. Clara and The Abbey

The Abbey was pretty nice. Clara's room was just a small room that had only a bed, a desk and a wardrobe with a little bassinet for Josephine to sleep in. Clara was free to come and go from the Abbey as she wishes, but there were only two rules to be followed.

One: Meal time was to be eaten at the exact same time, all women and nuns who lived here prayed and ate at the same time. Cleaning up was also part of 'meal time' in the Abbey.

Two; Attending church in the chapel from eight until ten was a must.

Those weren't too bad. Clara generally enjoyed the idea that she could come and leave as she pleased often. Her first day at the Abbey had met Mother Agatha, who was greeting Clara and few more who had come to the Abbey for either safety or similar to Clara's reason to stay.

Mother Agatha, who was well aware of what was happening to Clara, some of the women here and many more yet to come, blessed mother and child or children and assured them that even if their physical marriage was not true, the Heavens above still saw them spiritually married and that children born and died in their marriage (such as George) were safe in angel's arms.

* * *

Clara stayed there for a few days just settling inside and then left for the first time to visit Fiona and Harry. She walked from the Abbey to her old home, then to where the twins worked with their father. They were overjoyed to see Clara (and Josephine) but even more happy when she told them everything that happened.

"I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!" Harry spoke. "He was a bit strange in the first place."

"You're a brave soul Clara Stranton." Fiona smiled.

"Have you seen or heard about Gabriella?" Clara asked.

"Not a bit. I asked her father where she is, but he said not a single word. Good chance she might, sadly, be in a holding cell again for speaking up with other women."

"Oh." Clara said. "I hope she leaves soon. I miss her."

"Yeah, she's a fighter." Harry said. "Fiona, when did Pa say he was coming home?"

"Soon." Fiona answered.

"Where is your father?"

"Getting a birthday gift for someone. It's an early one, about a month early, but he has a friend who's been working on something and Pa believes he can get something from his friend for the birthday person."

"Sounds interesting."

* * *

Clara returned later that evening for the dinner meal. Hours later that night she was laying in her bed with Josephine deep asleep next to her in the bassinet. She gazed at the stars wondering how and when she would get home. She liked London, she loved her friendships that she's made, but back home was where she belonged. Even if Hope Valley had forgotten her, she still had her previous home; Hamilton.


	21. Bittersweet Birthday

**Hello Hearties.**

 **Bittersweet Birthday.**

Clara had finished placing Josephine to sleep after singing to her. Ever since Tommy taught Clara the song 'Come Josephine in my flying machine' Clara has been singing the song to her for a lullaby. She sang other lullabies too, but three month old Josephine preferred this song. Maybe because her name was in there?

Seeing as Patrick was still in hiding, Clara had no cash on her to help care for Josephine.

Clara had helped out the best she could at the pub whenever she was able too. She helped Fiona in the back with cooking the food which made Clara feel like she was back in the cafe in Hope Valley. With having to cook so much in the past in that home with Patrick, Clara's cooking had improved.

Only a tiny bit though. She still burned things here and there, but not as much as before.

* * *

Tommy had asked Clara to go to the nearby market a bit late in the evening to gather some last minute eggs he needed to make some sort of egg style breakfast in the morning. With Josephine being watched by Fiona and another relative of Fiona's, Clara made her way to the market and collected the eggs.

Upon her return to the pub Clara saw all the lights were turned off. Her eyebrow raised up. They didn't leave already, did they? She walked inside only for someone to turn on the lights and everyone yelled, "Happy Birthday, Clara!"

Clara blushed strawberry red and laughed. "Oh, everyone, this is so sweet! But my birthday is not until May."

"Pa said he had a gift for you," Harry told her as he took her basket of eggs. "He wanted to give it to you as an early birthday gift."

"A gift?" Clara questioned and turned to Tommy, who smiled brightly. "What is it?"

"I'll give it you you later. Let's just celebrate." He cheered just as the small band (Fiona on her violin and a couple of other instruments) began playing.

* * *

The hours passed with great food, lovely music and mostly fast pace dancing. Clara was not a dancer so she just sat down and relaxed during the dancing parts. Close to the end of the night just as the celebration was coming to an end (three in the morning to add), Clara was about ready to be escorted back to The Abbey when she felt a tap on her shoulder. Clara turned and found Tommy.

"Good evening, Ms. Stanton," He smiled. "Tired?"

"A little." Clara said. "Hopefully I don't sleep in too much."

"Everyone needs it sometimes," Tommy said. He pulled out of his front jacket pocket an envelope. "Your birthday gift."

"My birthday is in May."

"But if I handed this to you in May, there be no use to it." He explained. "Go on, open it."

Clara looked at it curiously. She slowly opened the closed material and took it out. It was a piece of paper, specifically a ticket. She read the ticket and nearly fell over from the shock.

"A ticket to—"

"Home." Tommy finished. "Or close to at least."

"Tommy—"

"This should bring you to New York. When you arrive my wife's old friend, Mary-Anne Marionette, will meet you at the pick up location. From there you can stay with her and her husband and maybe find work. You can save up from the left over money I have, now giving to you, and then head home." He explained.

"But how did you manage to pay for this ticket? It must cost at least ten fortunes." The brunette asked.

The brunet man smiled at her. He pulled her into a loving embrace, one a parent gave to a child for comfort, and rubbed her hair. "Gold isn't as worthy as family." He whispered.

Gold isn't as worthy as... Clara looked up at him in shock. "Gold... you sold your gold wooden violin?"

"Aye."

"Oh Tommy, but why?" She asked him. He loved that violin and it's been passed down from father to son for so many decades.

"Because gold is valuable, but family is much more than that." He answered. "It's just wood and string that plays music. It's replaceable. But this is a one in a million chance for you to go home to your family." He told the young girl. "Even if it's not directly home, it's a lot closer than London." He winked as he repeated the words she has said during Christmas.

Clara felt herself break down. Her mouth quivered and the many emotions filled her heart. She hugged even tighter and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" She said over and over a million times to him. "Tommy, I'm forever grateful."

"You've got me address. Send a letter." He smiled.

* * *

Later that night before Clara laid in her bed, she clasped her hands together and prayed. "Thank you, Father. Thank you."


	22. Broken and Dreams

**Hello Hearties!**

 **At the end of this chapter you will learn where this story is going. It's going to be dramatic.**

 **Also I looked up and there is a seven hour time difference between Vancouver, Canada and the United Kingdom, so both parts of this chapter are happening at the same time.**

* * *

Abigail was up before the sun had rose. She had been up for almost an hour now and couldn't fall back asleep. She found herself sitting downstairs in her kitchen with hot tea and gazing outside of the window.

Abigail wasn't depressed. But ever since Clara was kidnapped, Abigail wasn't as happy as she would be. She was still her old self, but not fully since Clara's kidnapping. It's been a year now since her kidnapping and no sights of her anywhere.

Two girls had found their way to Hope Valley in January and found Abigail, asking if Clara was there. Abigail told them no and that was when the two girls admitted what most likely happened to Clara. With Abigail, Bill and Jack listening to the story, the girls explained how there were a group of men kidnapping some young women for various reasons. But the most common one was for a single or widowed man to marry and have a family. Thankfully almost all the girls in this group in this area of Canada were found and saved and set free. Only three girls in the country were still missing, not including Clara.

 _"Do you suppose Clara is outside of the country?" Bill asked._

 _"I had met this one girl who had a friend go live with someone in Scotland. But as far as I have heard, only she was sent out of the country." Alice explained._

 _"The man who took us, his name is Owen Wilson," Rosalie told them._

 _Alice took out a piece of paper from her basket and held it up. The paper was not crumpled up, and colored brightly. "This is the one who took Rosalie, Clara and I." She said and handed the picture to Jack. "I remembered every detail. His eye shape, jawline, face shape, hair color and style." She stated. "He may or may not have any sort of facial hair. You can keep the picture in case he happens to come by this way again. I've made plenty for many towns and cities."_

 _"Thank you," Jack said. He still had guilt that Clara was missing under his watch and he hated that every single day. The day he would find Clara, he would stop hating himself._

They had found the man Owen. It took some time but Owen confessed to what happened. A man took Clara to a dock and she set sail to Ireland. That was all he knew. Where exactly he had no idea. It was hard to believe at first, but soon enough they learned that it truly was all he knew.

They had some lead. But nothing much yet. But the hope in Abigail's heart was still large.

"Abigail?" A voice startled her. Abigail turned and found Elizabeth standing there with a blanket around her. "What are you doing up so early before the sun?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"It's ten minutes of five."

"I know. I had a hard time sleeping last night." Abigail answered with a small, depressed tone. "It's been a year yesterday."

Elizabeth sat next to her friend and hugged her. Everyone knew how Abigail felt because they, too, felt the same way. Clara was like everyone. She was friend to everyone and sweet like an apple in the early Spring. A very thoughtful young lady to the community of Hope Valley.

Elizabeth also knew how Jack felt. His guilt only deepened with each day that passed. She had never seen him feel so guilty before. Even on the brightest days when Jack was happy, she knew where was a tiny part of him that felt guilt.

That tiny part though, to Jack, was huge.

"I know," Elizabeth said to Abigail. "We all miss her."

The two sat in silence for the next ten minutes. It wasn't until Abigail jerked and sat up straight with her eyes wide.

"What is it?" Elizabeth asked.

"I don't know," Abigail said. "I just have this awful feeling about Clara."

"Which is what?"

"I feel like something bad did happen to her, but..." She tried to collect her words. "I have this overwhelming feeling that something much worse is about to happen to her...And I don't know if she's going to be okay or not." The look on her face told what her heart was feeling. Broken and worried.

* * *

Across the ocean on a shipyard there were thousands of people. A good majority of them were saying their goodbyes to their friends and family, giving their best wishes. Clara stood with Josephine in her arms, wrapped in a pale pink blanket but wide awake and gazing around her surroundings while cooing.

Clara studied the beautiful ship in front of her. It was long and blue colored with white on the top and with four giant steams. There were several people aboard already and walking about the decks. The wind was lightly blow. She sat alone on a box waiting for her friends to arrive shortly. She heard two familiar voices call her name aloud.

The brunet stood up and turned to find her auburn hair and brown hair friend. She smiled and waved to them. "Hello Fiona and Harry."

The twins waved back and Harry said, "Aye, good day for shipping."

"Where is your father?"

"He's on the way. He paying a man to get your stuff on early."

"I just have a box with clothing."

"Better have it on then forget it." Fiona smiled. "I'm going to miss you, Clara Stanton."

Oh goodness, the emotions were coming. "I'm going to miss you too Fiona O'Malley." Clara said with a broken voice. She turned to Harry and said, "I'm so glad I had met you that day on the ship to here."

"Same here." Harry smiled. "Neither of us could make a better friend than you Mrs. Stanton."

The trio joined into a hug, firmly, just as Tommy joined with the group. "Better get on Clara. Got to have the best view when leaving in ten minutes."

Clara nodded at him. "Thank you," She said. She felt tears falling from her hazel green eyes. She hugged him tightly. "Thank you from the bottom and across my heart."

"We're family. Only separated by water." He muttered.

The twins joined back into the hug; creating one more, final family hug.

Clara boarded the ship and instantly felt great faith in her. It was a bit small and tight in the hallways, but once she found the top of the ship she made her way over to where the crowed was standing, waving goodbye to their friends and loved ones. She looked for her friends, her Irish family. She spotted them in a few seconds and laughed.

Fiona sat on Harry's shoulders and he was jumping up and down while Fiona waved her arms in the air. Tommy stood behind to catch her. Once the trio had spotted Clara, Fiona jumped off her brother's back and they waved to her.

The ship began to sail soon after that. The screams and cheers and happiness that occurred while they left dock was full of celebration and great joy. As the winds of England kissed Clara's cheeks goodbye, Clara couldn't help but have one thought in mind.

This really was The Ship of Dreams.

* * *

 **Can any of you Hearties figure out what ship Clara is on?**


	23. Voyage

**Voyage.**

The first couple of hours on Titanic, Clara had found her bunk in her room. She shared a room with three others who each a child or children of their own. Clara slept on the bottom bunk to the left upon entrance. Clara had escaped from the third class levels and made her way to the outside deck.

The air was crisp and windy and very cool. The skies were clear with white clouds and a warm sun shining down on the ship. Clara smiled at the fellow passengers. Adults having conversations with new friends and children playing among the deck together and forming friendships.

Clara kept to herself mostly. She gazed between the wide and beautiful open waters, the large and beautiful blue sky and the beautiful little four month old that was wide awake in her arms. "Come Josephine in my flying machine," Clara sang softly and kissed Josephine's temple. "I can't wait to bring you home. Whatever I can call home."

* * *

She hung out in the third class dining room around six, but she wasn't too hungry. She poked at her food for a bit, keeping her eye on Josephine, who sat up right on her mother's lap and rested her back along her mother's torso. Clara brushed the medium brown hair that Clara had given her. This lead Josephine to look up and giggle with the hazel green eyes Clara also had given her. Josephine appeared like a tiny version of Clara, a blessing for the kidnapped girl who was force to marry someone she did not love and had given her two children.

Clara kissed the tip of her head.

* * *

After the ship and stopped in France to pick up more passengers, six to seven hours past leaving England, the ship (now about nine at night) was now on its full direction ways to New York. The young mother sat on the deck a bit longer as Josephine slept in her arms in her warm baby blanket. The night sky was almost and indigo color with shiny stars lighting up the sky. It was cool but not cold.

* * *

Clara stood up and made her way back to to her bunks as the night became more bitter. She passed a group of men, probably a mix of second and first class, who stood outside and smoked cigars. Ten steps of passing the men and Clara heard one of them say aloud, "Ma'am?"

She turned on her foot to the men and saw one of them walking towards her. He looked familiar to her but she had no idea where he was from. "Yes sir?" She asked.

"You look familiar," He said as his eyes squinted to study her face. "You knew my daughter, Gabriella, correct?"

"Gabriella White?" Clara asked.

"Yes, my eldest daughter."

"Oh, yes, I do remember her." Clara smiled. "Good evening, Mr. White."

Gilbert White smiled and nodded at the young woman. "I apologize for not remembering your name. Claire, is it?"

"Clara."

"Ah, my apologizes."

"I accept your apology," Clara smiled. "Are Bert and Gwen aboard the ship also?" Gilbert nodded. "Are they with Gabriella now?"

Gilbert slowly shook his head. "No. She's with the angels now."

Clara felt her heart break. Gabriella passed away? "I'm so sorry."

Gilbert, again, nodded slowly. "I told her to stop with those riots and gatherings..." He shook his head and changed the subject. "I am meeting my sister in New York and then our way is taking us to Boston. Yourself?"

"I am meeting a friend of a friend and then save enough to go home." Clara explained. Josephine began to shift around uncomfortably in Clara's arms and made little whimpers. "I must go now, Mr. White."

Gilbert nodded. "I understand." He tipped his hat at her a bit. "Have a good night and safe remainder of the trip, Ms. Clara."

* * *

Back in her bunk room, Clara laid in her bed cot first, laying on the side with the floor and Josephine on the side with the wall. Clara covered herself and daughter with the thin blanket provided, said her goodnight prayer, and kissed her sleeping child's forehead. "Goodnight, Josephine Hope Stanton."


	24. Voyage II

**Voyage II.**

Clara was woken up early by Josephine and another child. She probably would not get back to sleep, so she just rolled herself out of bed and got ready for the new day.

After a quick breakfast, Clara found herself on the desk again, sitting at the front of the ship and looking onward towards the direction of New York. She began day dreaming about what New York was like. She remembered all the stories that Rosemary spoke about.

New York was a city that rarely slept and the lights were as bright as a night covered skyline. There were so many vastly smells that your nose would create it's own special dish before preparing for the dish. The streets were always busy, there was no such thing as "A lonely person on the road" and a almost every night someone was hosting a party after a theater performance (or any event for the matter).

She sat up there and saw a new area of land coming up shortly. "I wonder what that is," She said aloud with curiosity.

"That's Ireland, miss." A voice spoke.

Clara faced the young man. About her age or two years older than her with short, thin honey hazel brown hair and dark olive green pupils. He wore a newspaper boys cap, a white shirt with suspenders and tan bottoms with beat up old shoes. "Queenstown, Ireland to be exact." He didn't have a voice like Patrick or Tommy and Harry. He sounded a bit more like her.

Ireland. Funny. That was where she was told she was going to go in the first place. She turned back and gazed out to the bare waters. "How much longer until New York?" She asked. "Any estimate?"

"We'll be reaching New York by a week minus a day." The young man answered. He held his hand out for Clara to shake and said, "My name is a curse. Carl Ulysses, the first part, Randolph Samuel, the second part, Elmer." Clara felt herself tilt her head, confused. "Carl Ulysses Randolph Samuel Elmer. C.U.R.S.E. My name is a curse."

"Oh!" Clara giggled. "That's funny."

"Sure thing. My friends call me Elmer, but I respond to Carl." Carl said with a sweet smile. "So, a pretty girl like you can never have a cursed name. What's your blessed name?"

"Clara Stanton." Clara answered. "And that is my daughter, Josephine Stanton."

"Your husband?"

"He passed some years ago. In a mining accident." She sighed. She noticed the look Carl had given her, looking between her and Josephine. "Oh, it's a long story."

"Still a weeks journey." Carl laughed.

"Are you a passenger too?"

"No miss, I work in the boiler room. Just came up to get some fresh air. But I did help build the ship a little bit," He turned to face one of the steam towers. "See that second one? I help make that and bring it up." He turned to her and said, "I also help install the steering wheel and some of the windows in the first class dining room."

"So you like to build?"

"Yes miss. I'm the only boy and only child in my family so I had much time with my father, Samuel. I grew up working with him on all sorts of settings and material." Carl grinned. He then stood up and tipped his hat at Clara. "Have a good evening, miss."

"Thank you." Clara smiled.

The ship landed in Queenstown and let more passengers on board the ship. Two hours later the ship was leaving Ireland and out into the open ocean. Clara stood on the very front of the ship with Josephine laying in her arms, but sitting upright a bit. "Here we go now Josephine," Clara whispered. "Out into the open waters. This is going to be an incredible and memorable journey."

* * *

 **Clara is going to regret her words :(**


	25. Classes and Lessons

**Classes and Lessons.**

Clara had stayed mostly in the third class areas of Titanic and generally staying in either the general room, where everyone in third class got together during activity times to relax and speak with new and old friends, making friendships. Other times she was on the deck spending much time as she could in the fresh air. The skies were still warm and clear and very beautiful.

Not that Clara wanted to be apart from Josephine, ever, she figured she would just take an hour to herself. Just a simple hour for this trip. A fellow mother offered to keep watch over Josephine during the hour Clara was gone.

Clara stood on the side of the ship, arms crossed and dangling over the side, gazing as the waves below made rapid moves that splashed across the water. She inhaled the ocean oxygen and kept thinking about returning to her old life. Then it hit her. She would physically return to her old life, but mentally and emotionally she wouldn't be the same Clara.

The old Clara was nice and a bit timid at times and helpful around her mother-in-law's cafe while sewing aprons and fixing other articles of clothing. She was young, widowed and courted Jesse.

The new Clara was nice, not as timid as before, still helpful in some ways or another and continued to sew when she could. She was young, widowed and divorced and had a little girl to care for from now on as a single mother.

Her life wasn't the same as before and she knew it wouldn't be the same almost ever again.

* * *

She found herself staring at a lifeboat that rested adjacent to where Clara stood. She had counted some of them earlier and made out at least five. There had to be more, right? With so many passengers and crew members on the ship; there hard to be at least one hundred for everyone to be saved, if something were to ever happened on The Unsinkable Ship.

"Enjoying the view?"

Clara, a bit startled, whipped her head and found Carl standing there with a smirk. "Yes, a bit. It's a nice day."

"Sure is, miss."

"Are you going to keep addressing me as Miss? My name is Clara." She smiled.

"My mother taught me to call a unmarried woman Miss, and a married woman Ma'am." Carl said. "I know you explained that you are widowed, but I don't see another gold or silver bang on the married finger."

"Can you please call me Clara?" She asked. "I feel like I am older than what my mother would be right now if she hadn't died."

Carl thought for a moment. "Meet me in the middle? Miss Clara?"

"Okay."

"Good." Carl said with a grin. "So, Miss Clara, where is Miss Josephine?"

"With one of the woman I share a room with. I have never been apart from her for this long, ever, since she was born. I just wanted an hour to myself."

Carl shrugged. "We all need a bit of alone time here and there to collect thoughts." He said. "Want a better view?"

Clara looked at him oddly. "A better view?"

"Sure Miss Clara." He said. "Follow me."

Clara followed the young man to a set of stairs and walked up. It wasn't until he opened the gates that Clara read the sign. "We can't go up here."

"Why not?"

"The sign says that only first and second class passengers can be up here." She said as she pointed to the sign. "We're third class."

"Oh it is just a sign. Probably just there to remind the loopy old and new money carriers aware that there is a gate here." Carl laughed. "We'll be fine. Just act like you belong up here."

Clara did not want to go, but she did want to see a different view of the ship, at a higher level. She followed him up and her heart race with worry.

* * *

They made a left turn and came across officers that worked on the ship along with several passengers from first and second class. She held in her breathe and prayed that they weren't caught. They couldn't be thrown into the water for this, could they? Clara had no idea how to swim. She tried to focus on something else.

"Carl? How many boats are on the ship? I counted at least five today."

"Twenty." Carl said. Then paused and thought for a moment. "Actually, I think I heard one of the boiler managers speak about Titanic being able to carry at least thirty or thirty five, but someone decided at the end to keep it at twenty."

"Why?"

"The more boats they would add, the more repulsive the Titanic would have appeared."

"This beautiful ship would be called ugly if it carried fifteen more than what it already carries? That is a bit strange."

The duo followed to the near top of the ship at the highest deck where passengers walked upon. He lead Clara to the front of the desk where the front of the boat was and pointed out to the open sea. "I said this was a much better view."

The view's only change was that Clara felt like she was almost flying at this level. She stood in front of Carl and felt the winds kissing her cheeks and blowing her hair back and smiled. The felt the corners of her mouth turn upwards as she gazed at the beautiful view. It _was_ much more beautiful up here. Clara felt herself sticking her arms out, letting the wind push them back a bit, and inhale more ocean oxygen. Now she truly felt like she was flying in the skylight.

"Come Josephine in my flying machine," She sang softly. She turned to Carl. "This is so exciting!"

"Plenty more where that came from Miss Clara." Carl said.

* * *

The two young adults made their way around second class and took the elevator up to first class where the first thing to be spotted was the grand staircase. The beautiful artwork and colors of the grand staircase room were more wonderful than Clara could even picture. The pillars that held up the ceiling were probably had carved by woodsmen. The little statue that stood in the middle at the bottom of the staircase looked like an angel, almost.

Many of the passengers walked by, too busy with their own conversations to see that two, third class passengers were in a section of the ship that they usually wouldn't be. They walked about for some time checking out each of the activity rooms and the dining room and other rooms of the ship. The final room they entered was where the church mass was to be held fairly soon. The two sat down looking at the front of the room.

"You'd think we get this sort of room downstairs?" Carl pointed out. "Don't get the wrong idea, Miss Clara, I like the gathering room for masses, but I do sort of wish we had something as pretty as this."

Clara nodded. "I do. But my mother told me something once when I was younger. You can be in the most angelic church or the most rotten looking church, but your voice can still be heard by angels."

"Well don't you have a smart mother?" Carl smirked.

"She was pretty wonderful." Clara smiled. "She and Abigail are so much alike."

"Abigail?"

"My mother-in-law."

"She a nice woman?"

"One of the most."

One of the back doors opened and an officer that worked on the ship stepped into the room. "You two, stand up at once." He ordered.

Clara and Carl stood up instantly.

The officer eyeballed them up and down. "You two do not belong up here."

"What gives you that idea, sir?" Carl asked.

"I know for a fact those are boiler mans clothing, sir." He stared at Carl. "And you," he looked at Clara. "I have seen you in third class since England."

"Sir, I may work in the boiler room, but I also find myself walking around to make sure that the ship stays together. No cracks or leaks anywhere." Carl said. "She's my sister."

Clara found herself looking straight at Carl. He was lying to an officer? In a church?

The officer cleared his throat and said, "Neither of you look a like."

"I take father, she takes after our mother."

"In any case, you both belong below deck with the other rats." He said. "Now leave." His voice was almost stern and demanding.

* * *

Carl and Clara made their way back to third class of the ship. Clara was still stunned about Carl lying. "I can't believe you lied."

"Not honestly. I do like walking around to make sure nothing is broken and you do look a lot my own mother, Beth Elmer."

"You still lied." Clara said. "I don't like liars."

"I apologize Miss Clara," Carl said. "I'll make it up tonight at the party."

"A...party?" She asked.

"Yes Miss Clara. A couple of buddies of mine are playing their instruments and dancing the night away with friends." Carl answered. "Miss Josephine is welcome to join too. She'll be queen of the party."

Clara shrugged. "I don't know." She lingered her thoughts. She did want to have fun as much as possible during the trip. She smiled. "I guess that could be fun."

* * *

 **Well, the people on the ship aren't too nice to a couple kids, aren't they?**

 **Parts of this chapter (the flying and the party) were inspired by scenes from the movie Titanic.**

 **What do you think of Carl? He's a pretty good guy.**


	26. The Party

This wasn't the first time that Clara had gone to a loud and lively party. Unless the parties at the O'Malley's bars don't count. Clara walked into the room where the party was behind held and instantly felt bliss and happiness in the room. The band was live, almost everyone was dancing, men were drinking beer and gambling and smoking cigars.

She found a free seat at a random table and sat there with her wide awake little girl. She gazed around the room and found the crowed entertaining. She had never seen such a mass group of people. From different countries around the world, traveling together to start a new life in America. Once more friendships were forming together and Clara couldn't be happier about this adventure.

She couldn't wait until she could tell someone. She craved to go back to Hope Valley, but she still believed that Hope Valley had forgotten her since nobody had reached her while she was gone. But then she had almost no where else to go unless she moved back to her old city. Maybe stay with her old friend, Esther. Esther was fairly nice. Her mother albeit, April, was a stern woman who'd probably find a way to blame Clara for getting kidnapped in the first place.

Maybe she'd find another place to stay if she saved enough money in New York.

The young brunette was laughing at the sight of some dancing just as she spotted to children run pass in a game of tag with fellow children. She vaguely remembered the two of them from their one time meeting. "Gwen? Bert?"

The two out of seven children running stopped at the call of their names and turned to the brunette with the baby on her lap. "You know us?" Bert asked.

"Yes." Clara smiled. "Don't you remember me?"

Gwen studied Clara's face and body, then smiled. "Oh, I know now. You were the big lady at bar."

Clara's eyes popped out a bit before saying, "Uh, yes, I was pregnant. Where's your daddy?"

"Upstair. He said we can come down here and play for a bit." Bert said. "We like playing down here."

"Oh. Okay." Clara said.

Sometime later just as Clara finished eating a piece of bread she felt someone tap her shoulder. She looked around and found her friend standing there with a smirk. "Hello again, Miss Clara."

"Hello." She said sweetly.

"Enjoying the party?" He asked her.

"If I don't count the O'Malley's parties, than I've never been to a party as lively as this one."

"This party will last forever even when it ends." Carl laughed. "And you Miss Josephine?" He tickled under the baby's chin, causing a giggle. "Well, I can guess she is a party baby."

"By no offense, but shouldn't you be in the boiler room?"

"Taking shifts with a few fellas. I'm here for an hour before switching with Arthur." He replied. "Like I said earlier today. I find myself wondering the ship to look for cracks and holes."

"Of course." Clara smiled.

"So Miss Clara, I never asked what you like to do."

"Not too much. House work for nearly a year now." Clara said. Then she paused and thought to herself. A year now. She's been gone for a year now. She was kidnapped a year ago. "Before that... I usually liked sewing aprons and cleaning up. I helped Abigail in her cafe, but I somehow always messed up a bit."

"Still sounds like a real party." He said. "Like back home where you are from? Not England?"

"A bit." Clara said. "But I can imagine Hope Valley throwing a party like this if they wanted too."

"Hope Valley, huh? Sounds like a good name." Carl said. He then held out his arm and said, "Drop your little girl to another person's lap and care to dance?"

"Okay I guess." Clara said.

Between cooking and dancing, Clara will always choose cooking. The fast pace music was loud and everyone was cheering and laughing. Clara couldn't dance too much if her life depended on it. She just figured she would follow Carl and let him lead the way.

Of course that ended up with them jumping up and down as they circled around the room with everyone else, spinning Clara in and out of his arms, then the both of them gripping one another's hands and spinning one another around and around until the music died down slowly. By the end of the song and another began, Clara was out of breathe.

"I've never danced that much before."

Carl laughed. "Get ready for the next one."

The next one was just as fast. If not, than faster. Everyone began holding hands with one another and created a chain and danced around the room, still cheering and laughing with everyone else.

* * *

The evening ended with Clara walking back to her room with Josephine sleeping; her tiny head on her shoulder and wrapped in a blanket Clara had taken from the bedroom.

After saying her goodnight prayer Clara settled on the bed and rested her head on the pillow and staring at little Josephine's face. "Tomorrow is the fourteenth." She softly whispered. "Only a few days more until New York."


	27. April 14

Clara woke up early the next morning. She never woke up this early before. She felt like she just went to bed an hour ago. Not counting an hour ago when she fed Josephine. But just early. She laid in the bed cot gazing at Josephine and softly brushing back the dark hair the little baby had. She kissed the little girls cheek every so often and whispered, "I love you, my Josephine." into her ear.

Clara eventually climbed out of bed and got ready for Church and the rest of the day. When she was finished readying herself for the day and gave Josephine her breakfast, she found herself having a half hour before joining others in the gathering room. Clara sat on her bed cot and bounced Josephine on her lap gently. "Who's a jumpy baby?" She cooed. "Josephine is! Jumpy Josephine the Jellybean." She giggled.

* * *

Church seemed to last a good hour. Clara sat in the back pew with a sleeping baby in her arms. She paid attention to the priest, but about a half hour into the mass when the priest was speaking about good future and good hope for the new world, Clara felt something in her heart. It was telling her to do something. She knew what her heart was directing her to do, but why would she need to do this?

Church ended just as everyone was going to breakfast. Clara wasn't too hungry and since Josephine just recently ate than she wouldn't be hungry for another few hours. She hurried back to her room and borrowed her roommates paper and pen and wrote down what her heart was telling to write down. Dates and a long letter. She studied it to be sure it was written clearly and well. She folded the paper and placed it under her pillow.

Clara sat downstairs most of the morning and afternoon. It was becoming colder outside since they were out in the middle of the ocean now. She knew that April could be cold but she never imagined how cold it would get at night. She wished she had ten blankets last night. She had three bedsheets on her bed cot and used two of them to keep her little one warm. She could only dream of what it was like out here in the ocean during a wintery season.

* * *

Clara came out from the bottom of the ship and got some of the little warm air Titanic was sailing. She sat on the side of the ship today. She sat in one of the chairs bouncing Josephine again and gazing out into the nothing but ocean skyline. "Almost home." She said to her child.

"Hello again, Miss. Enjoying the nice weather I see."

Clara looked to her side and saw her friend. "I swear you keep following me."

"I swear, I like to check and fix things." Carl said with a soft laugh. "But I do believe I was speaking to Miss Josephine, not you Miss Clara."

"Oh," Clara smiled and looked back to Josephine. "Are you enjoying the weather, Josephine?" She questioned the little girl. Josephine made a smile and began clapping, as if she knew what her mother was asking her. "I guess we will take that as a yes, Carl." Clara answered.

"I missed lunch. What were we served?"

"Bouillon soup, roast beef and brown gravy. Green beans, boiled; potatoes. cabin biscuits; bread. prunes and rice." She answered.

"Yum." Carl said with little tone of happiness. "First class had some sort of fancy chicken and fancy vegetables."

"Oh but the green beans and biscuits looked liked a royal king's dinner table." Clara giggled.

"Oh good. I'll just find a crown." Carl said.

"You sound like you are not in a good mood." Clara said as she stood up. "What is troubling you?"

"I rarely slept last night at all. Someone went off to do who knows what and I was called in to do their work. They still can't be found so this is probably my only time to roam around and keep a tab on Titanic."

"I'm sure they'll be found soon." She said.

"Hope so." Carl said. Then he smiled at the brunette. "Speaking of hope, you said you are from Hope Valley?"

"Yes."

"What's that like?"

"Hope Valley?" She asked. He nodded. "It's a small city. It use to be called Coal Valley because a main source of work was mining. There was an accident in the mines and a lot of men and sons died. My husband, Peter Stanton, and his father Noah, were few of the men."

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you. I met my mother-in-law, Abigail, at court when the mining company was sued for sending the men into a mine that was unstable. Peter had given me some important documents to keep and I presented them to the court and the company lost to the city."

"Amazing how words can change lives."

"I moved back home in Hamilton for a bit before Abigail came for me and I lived with her in Hope Valley." Clara continued. "Everyone was so nice and friendly and welcoming. It was hard to fit in at first but all of the warmth and kindness that was in Hope Valley made it easier each day."

"How'd you end up in England?"

"I met this man who was pretending to be a new Mountie in Hope Valley. His name was really Owen Williams. He kidnapped me from Hope Valley."

"No."

"Yes. After being tied up for some time, Owen sent me to a man who placed me on another ship to England. I was basically kidnapped to be someone's wife."

Carl nodded his head. He had heard about this event going on while living in London with his friends. They were close to capturing everyone involved and freeing the women and children, which was good. "Did they catch him?"

"Patrick Pennington? No."

"Pennington?" Carl replied. "I know him. Always drunk when I saw him. Wait then, you must be Claire."

"Claire?"

"He said he had a wife named Claire. I guess me meant Clara. Huh?" Carl eyeballed her up and down. "You don't look like a rotten rat to me."

Clara shook her head in annoyance. "Well, I'm not married to him legally because of the kidnapping events. A family I had become friends with, The O'Malley's, they helped me get on Titanic. I'm going to stay with a friend of theirs and then go home. Where ever that is."

"Hope Valley?"

"Or Hamilton."

"Why there?"

"I sent a letter every week to Abigail. But I never heard a word back from her." She sighed. "I don't know why she did respond."

Carl was silent for a moment and thought to himself. "Directly to Hope Valley?"

"Yes."

"Ah. I see the trouble." Carl said. "For some unknown reason, sending a letter from England to where your Abigail lives is not possible."

"How?"

"I do not know really. There is something odd about mail service. You'd have to send it to another place. Maybe France or Germany. They would send it to America at the least and then it would get to Hope Valley." He explained.

Clara sighed and lowered her head. That's why Abigail never responded? Because of the mail service?

"Had you use a telegram, it would find it's way directly to Hope Valley."

"Oh, that's good to know." Clara smiled. She can do that when she gets to New York. Maybe Abigail, or someone, can send for her. When she opened her sewing store the first thing she would pay for is paying back whomever helped her arrived back to Hope Valley. Josephine began to grow wrestles. She wanted to move around. "Josephine and I are going to walk around for a bit."

"Mind if I join for half hour?"

"Sure." Clara smiled.

* * *

Clara and Carl walked around for a bit more. She spoke of every friend she had in Hope Valley. Carl teased her a bit when she spoke about Jesse. She couldn't wait to see all her friends again one day. Hopefully not too much had changed.

* * *

 **Uh oh. Something is going to happen...later tonight!**

 **I f** **ound a copy of Titanic's dinner menu online, for each class, so I had the lunch menu correct for third class.**

 **Will Clara go home to her familiar Hope Valley or will it be a new Hope Valley?**


	28. Cold

The hours passed on Titanic pretty quickly. The brunette of Hope Valley had taken a nap during the afternoon, fed Josephine a bit more and then slept for a bit longer before waking up for dinner. It was soup, brown gravy, sweet corn, boiled potatoes, sweet sauce, fruit, cheese, pickles, rice and plum pudding. It looked pretty good, but Clara wasn't too hungry at all. Maybe a bite or two of the soup and plum pudding but that was it really.

She sat outside the rest of the night looking up into the skyline. There was no moon, but the stars were shining more brightly than ever before. The weather was fairly clear with little dark misty clouds covering a bit of the scenery. The wind was pretty calm too.

"It's chilly as hell out here, Miss Clara."

"Carl, quit stalking me." Clara said. "You stalk more than work."

"Apple?" He held it out to her. "I actually was suppose to be modeling."

"Modeling?"

"Yes. For a woman painting on the ship," Carl said. "I was suppose to wear a skirt and petticoat." He laughed.

"I'd rather see you in a wedding dress I had to wear. The one I wore for the Pennington wedding." Clara laughed.

"Why?"

"That thing was so itchy! I swear if I had scratched all the itches I would not have any skin left to keep my body warm or cool." She continued. "Carl, I don't think you ever told me what you plan on doing after we dock in New York."

"Didn't I?" He asked. "I didn't?" She nodded. "Huh, I could of sworn I did. Well, my mother and father live in Boston and so I'm going there to visit for a bit before finding work again."

"What happened in England?"

"Oh, a friend of mine from Boston was going there for his father's work business and brought me along. My plans were to stay there for a month and head home. A month for me turned into two years." Carl smiled. "I found a job around the area we lived with some friends, upper east of London, and stayed put. The second my stomached craved my mother's food I knew I had to come home."

"You like to travel much for work."

"Of course. I like traveling a lot but I do like the idea of settling down for some time. I'm heading to the thirties, no joked intended."

"Heading to the thirties?"

"Yeah. I'm sure I'll still be alive by the nineteen thirties. Hence, I'm heading to the thirties." Carl explained. "Sounds better in my head. But, there are a couple of places I'd like to visit too."

"Where else is left?"

"California first. Los Angeles first and then head over to this place called Santa Monica Pier that a friend of mine told me about when she was visiting London for a bit. Then head back to New York for a bit before going up to Canada."

"Where in Canada?"

"Hope Valley, silly!" Carl laughed. "After what you told me I have to go visit there now."

"You have such a bright character that even Rosemary would be amazed by your positive outlook on life." The green eyed girl giggled. "And all the women would enjoy your manners."

"Oh, so do I teach the men to be kind then?" Carl laughed. "I can do that. Mama taught best."

* * *

Clara and Carl kept talking about her friends of Hope Valley. Carl told her that he really needed to come visit her as soon as possible to meet her friends. Carl spoke of his friends too back home in the Boston area and in other cities too. He also told Clara of his different travels around most of America and some places in Europe. Clara admired his stories. He reminded her of Nellie Bly.

As the ship continued it's destiny to New York, the hours of midnight were coming to a close. Clara woke up to someone shaking her shoulder and turned upwards to find Carl smiling at her. "You fell asleep for a good hour, you know."

"Oh, I did?" She yawned.

"Sure did. Miss Josephine did after I picked her up before you might of possibly dropped her." He explained, showing her the sleeping baby in his left arm. "I'll escort you back Miss Clara."

"Okay." She said and followed by a yawn.

The two young adults stood up and began their walk back to where the stairs would lead them back to the third class. Clara pulled the blanket around her some more and tightened the blanket around Josephine to keep her warm. It had to be almost twenty degrees tonight. "It's freezing. It's like swimming in a tin bucket of ice cubes."

"No kidding." Carl commented.

The duo then heard the sound of a bell ringing and two men should above them. Peering up, they saw two men on the look out pier above them. Curious, the two kept silent and listed to what the men were shouting very loudly. But due to the distance they were unable to hear anything that the men were shouting.

"What do you think the problem is, Carl?" Clara asked.

"I don't know," Carl said with a linger in his voice. "Wait right here."

Clara watched as Carl walked quickly to the side of the ship and looked forward in the direction the men above them were shouting. She saw Carl nearly jump back and faint when he saw whatever it was. She also heard him cuss loudly. Clara found herself walking to where Carl was standing.

"What is it?" She asked and peered over. Her vision might be a bit blurry but she had a gut feeling she knew what was she facing. "Carl?"

"Holy Lord of almighty!" Carl shouted. "What the hell are they doing downstairs!?"

A few seconds passed as they face what could possibly face death of some sort. They both felt the ship vibrating as it began to steer to the side, beginning it's avoidance with the object in front of them. Clara assumed they were just going to miss it. But there was a weird vibrational movement on the ship that had herself guessing twice.

Clara felt two strong arms wrap around her waist and begin to drag her backwards. "Look out!" Carl shouted as he pulled her back. Just in the nick of time too.

Titanic had just skimmed roughly against the monstrous size iceberg, causing the ship to vibrate more violently than it was just before and pieces of the monster falling down; nearly crushing Clara, Josephine and Carl to death. The ship continued to vibrate violently for another second or two before the ship was no longer attached to the iceberg.

"Goodness, that was very close." Clara said. Her eyes and heart were still shaken from impact. She started to sooth a suddenly frightened Josephine who began wailing loudly when Carl had pulled them both back from the falling ice. Clara rocked her little girl and turned to Carl. "That could have been one huge of a mess."

Carl, however, stood still as ice. Just barely breathing and unable to think for a moment or two. Carl ran over to the side of the ship, slipping on some ice, before peering over the ship and staying there for a moment. He was studying the impact of the hit.

"Carl?"

Carl stood back up from studying down and turned to Clara. His face was weak and pale.

"Carl?"

"Miss Clara," He said. His eyes were still wide and large with fright. "Go back to your room."

"Pardon me?"

"Go back to your room and stay put." He said. "Stay put and keep alert." He said rather quickly. Then in a harsh whisper he said, "If you can carry things into a bag, place them in there quickly and stay alert."

"Okay." She said, but was not sure why he told her this. "Is everything okay?"

"I hope so, Miss. Clara. I really do hope so."

* * *

 **Uh oh.**


	29. Madness

**Hello Hearties! So, I wanted to write a couple of Titanic chapters, but since Clara is on third class and, from what I've researched and saw in James Camron's movie, third class was (of course) last to leave or whatever. So there's a bit of a jump in hours.**

* * *

Clara hurried back into her room, still unsure about what had just actually happened. She spotted a few men running around looking for the captain or anyone in charge to wonder what had happened and what to do. Same thing with fellow passengers.

Clara popped back into her room, finding only one women with her son with her. "Any idea what happened?" She asked.

"No. I was up on the deck with a friend and suddenly two men began to yell, seconds later the ship hit something and now this." Clara explained as she put Josephine on her bed. Clara took the bucket bag that Fiona had given her months ago. It was small, but a good size for small. Clara began throwing some jewlery inside. "My friend said if you have a bag, to pack small important things inside."

"How come?"

"I don't know. He also just said to stay alert." Clara explained, putting in some important document papers. She lifted up her pillow and took her note she had written earlier out and placed it in her bag. "I don't have a good feeling about any of this."

Clara packed almost everything important to her in her little bag, documents and a journal and the letter and some jewelry. Clara followed out of the room and followed a crowed in a certain direction. She still had no idea what was happening to the ship. She wanted to find out soon.

She met with a few men who had came aboard from Ireland and one from France, who spoke little English, and stayed near them since they were the only group who she could speak with and understand. "What is happening?" She asked.

One man, Meriwether, blew out a cigarette puff and said, "Ship's in trouble. I knew it would be soon if those rich bastards tried to keep their names as gold as their family coins."

"Pardon?" Clara asked, perplexed.

"He means that the ship is in some sort of trouble, most likely caused by first class passengers or one of the ship managers or even the captain, in order to stay rich and famous." A second man, Thomas, clarified.

"Oh," The brunette said. "I hope it's not too serious. A friend of mine just told me to pack up important papers and things and stay alert."

The French man looked at her as if she had ten heads on her shoulder. "Stay alert?"

"Yes."

"What'd your friend see?" Meriwether questioned.

"We were on the deck of the ship. One minute everything is fine, the next there are two men on lookout above us screaming and yelling. A minute later the ship shook—"

"That we all felt," The French man added.

"The ship skidded against an iceberg I suppose, because large pieces of ice fell onto the deck. Next thing I'm aware of is my friend, who looked over the side of the ship, told me to pack up small, important things and stay alert.

"An iceberg!?" Meriwether shouted. "Damn crew! They're going so fast but not keeping an eye on what's ahead?"

"It's rather frigid and darkly misty up there. It's hard to see the fog above the moon less sky," Clara explained.

"No damn excuse." Meriwether said again, finishing his puff and throwing it into a cup of water next to them. "Your friend, he works on the ship?"

"Yes. In the steam room."

"Well if a third class worker says to pack up important documents, we might as well do as says." Thomas announced. "Thanks miss."

Clara stayed below with other third class passengers. She didn't know if or when it was safe to go back upstairs. Thousands of third class passengers gathered around in the room and waited too. Soon enough, someone made the announcement. A man in a uniform stood at the gates where passengers entered and left.

He spoke loudly and clearly for all to hear. "We are to inform you of the current events of Titanic," He began. "We are in a bit of trouble, but there is nothing to worry about."

"Tell us what's happening!" Someone shouted, then almost everyone else began to add in on wanting to know.

"We are in a bit of trouble, but there is nothing to worry about." He repeated as calmly as he could. "First class passengers are being taken care of first, followed by second and then third class. I suggest women and children come up first."

That was all he said. He left afterwords, leaving a room of fright, uncertainty and madness.

All Clara could do was stay in her seat, sooth a crying Josephine and pray for the best.


	30. Going Back?

The time between the announcement and now, everyone in third class had gone mad. Almost all the men were angry that they were not allowed to try and save their lives. Other men were mad that the officers were not letting the woman and children leave first. Finally, a small or medium size group of men and woman with some children had found a way out of third class. It took a lot of fighting and shouting, but the group managed to lead out of third class.

Clara did not want to wait any longer, so she followed them with Josephine fast asleep on her shoulder.

She followed the group throughout the hallways. Soon after leaving Clara saw that the direction they were running in, water emerged from God knows where. Through her covered ankles, the brunette felt the freezing water start to take its toil on the passengers.

She saw a bunch of other passengers running around, looking for almost any means of escape, and they ranged between second class and third class only. (Of course first class wouldn't be down here). She saw children following their parents around and other children crying as they were picked up by others and carried out of the hallways.

The grow that Clara followed fought down a gate and climbed over the officer who attempted to block the group. She felt bad for knocking him down, but her and her daughter's life were at stake.

* * *

Finally the group had found a way to get to the top of the ship. Everyone wasn't running around as much, yet some were still running just as mad. The ship was tipping at an angle very slowly. Most of the row boats had already gone out to sea, but there were still some left.

"Woman and children, first!" Someone shouted to the people. "Woman and children first!"

Clara found no row boats near here, so she just began running until she saw a group forming around a row boat. It wasn't completely full yet, which seemed like good news for Clara to jump in. She waited her turn in her spot and waited. Not too much time passed before she felt someone grab her by the shoulders and turn her towards them.

"Clara!" It was Mr. White. "Clara, have you seen Bert or Gwen any where?" He was in high panic and pale as white.

"No, I just arrived here mere moments ago." Clara told him. "Where did you last see them?"

"In the dining room. After that I lost track. I told them to come up here and get on a row boat, but there was so much screaming and yelling that I don't think they heard me and tried to come find me." He answered. "I've got to find them!"

* * *

Gilbert ran off after that. Clara stood there and thought through her memory. An idea came up to her mind on where they could be. Hopefully, it wasn't filled to the top yet. Seeing at there was just enough room for the woman in front of Clara to get on, Clara tapped the woman in front of her, who turned at will.

"Can you bring her on the row boat?" Clara asked. "I have to find someone."

The woman nodded.

"Josephine Stanton." She told the woman and handed her the sleeping baby, along with her bag to take. Clara kissed the beautiful sleeping girl on her forehead. "I love you, Josephine." She whispered.

Clara took off after that, hoping she could find the twins before something horrible would happen to them.


	31. Chills

**The gate scene was inspired from a scene in Titanic. Credit to Mr. Cameron and his set/production crew.**

* * *

Clara ran through the bitter frigid hallways of the sinking Unsinkable Ship of Dreams trying to find the room where the third class party was held the other day. She had seen both of the little twins running around in the room with the other children, so she hoped that at least they were both in the room.

Neither were in the room. The water was rising quickly and Clara felt her body temperature begin to drop slowly. She ran through a couple of more hallways the best that she was able to do and call for Bert and Gwen. Neither were responding to her and neither could be seen from Clara.

Finally about what felt like almost forty minutes of searching, Clara called out their names in one last attempt to find them. "Gwen White! Bert White! Call out Clara if you hear me!"

After a few seconds, Clara heard a frightened voice call her name out. "Clara!"

"Bert!?"

"Clara!" It was faint, but fairly close to Clara for her to get a head start in the direction.

"Bert, keep yelling!" The brunette yelled as she ran as fast as she could within the rising water of hell that stabbed her sides.

"Clara! Clara! Clara! Clara!" Bert continued to yell.

* * *

Clara found the room Bert was in after a few seconds; unfortunately the water in the room was up to her chest now. Clara found Bert holding onto a piece of floating wood for dear life. "Bert!"

The young boy turned to the girl. He had no idea who it was that looked for him, other than just someone named Clara, but now he knew who he was speaking too. His older sister's friend. "Clara!"

Clara pushed herself to where he was and held her arms out for him to grab onto. "Hold me." She said. Bert grabbed onto Clara first and then released his grip off the piece of falling wood and wrap his arms around her neck to hold himself. "I can't find daddy or Gwen."

"It's okay, it's okay. I saw your daddy upstairs." She soothed him as she pushed them out of the room. The water was rising faster than ever, now up to her neck. She picked up her pace and prayed they got out of here and onto a row boat.

* * *

The madness that took place as the water kept growing and the ship kept sinking was almost insane and unbelievable for anyone to imagine. Clara knew she had to get herself and Bert upstairs and onto a row boat. She was upset that she couldn't find Gwen. She prayed that Gwen was found earlier by their father and on a row boat safely with the others.

Clara was practically swimming halfway to where she saw a pair of stairs that lead up to another floor. Not above on the deck, but another floor above them. Probably two more to go after this upcoming one. But she was not winning the race.

She had no idea how to swim. Who in the world knew how to swim? She never had to learn since she didn't grow up near water. If anything, the water that she was around was yucky and muddy. Plus, carrying a slightly heavy child in her arms made it at lost more worse and difficult to swim around with.

As she closed near the stairs she found that they were gates. _No!_ She thought as the water began to rise again. She couldn't find another flight to go up. There was no time. Clara began to scream and pray. Lucky for her, some guard or worker of the boat was running. "HELP!" She screamed.

He stopped, still in a wild panic, and saw the girl with (who he assumed) was her child.

"Help us!" She pleaded. "Unlock the gate. Please!"

The ship worker hesitated for a moment before shaking his head and pulled a set of keys out. His hands were trembling wildly as he tried to find the correct key that would unlock the gates. However with rising wild water and, no joke, ten keys on the ring, there was tense pressure. He dropped them into the rising water and began overly anxious. "Sorry!" He shouted and ran.

"No! No!" Clara screamed. Bert began to cry. Grunting, Clara said to Bert. "Bert? Hold your breathe when I tell you to. Okay?"

He nodded.

"One...two...three...HOLD!" She shouted.

They both sucked in their air and Clara went under and began to feel around for the keys. She felt them within a few seconds and came back up. Soaking head to toe in freezing, chilling, shivery water that was alarming growing colder and bitter in every micro second, Clara began to play around and find the key. Bert, whom Clara shifted up higher above her, kept screaming and crying into her ear and Clara's heart was pumping faster and faster as the water came past her neck and was near close to her mouth. Just mere seconds before the water was at her nose holes; she found the key and pushed the gate.

The water went downhill the hallway, dragging Clara and Bert on the floor and down the hallway to, thankfully, the next flight of stairs. She had been in this hallway before since the bench from earlier was still in place. She knew where she was going from now.

* * *

Clara ran up and up as fast as her legs would bring her. Back up in the open cold air Clara found everyone running around back and forth screaming. The ship had been tipping (how could she not noticed?) and still tipping slowly. Clara looked around for someone who worked for the ship.

She found one man. She ran over to him and tapped his shoulder. "Sir?"

"Yes?" He asked. Terror in his eyes.

"Where is another boat to climb on?"

"No more miss." He said.

What? "Pardon!?"

"No more," He said. He pointed to the one that was now rowing out to sea. "That there was the last miss."

She looked and saw the boat. It was filled with completely. Her heart sank. The last one?

Now what?

* * *

 **Now what?**


	32. April 15

**Ironically, I'm watching the end of Titanic and I'm writing this scene at the exact same time as the screen on my television. Oh the irony!**

* * *

The ship was tipping more and more, tipping on the front of the ship. Everyone was running to the back of the ship, to the back of the ship. Clara held onto Bert tightly and ran with everyone. The angle of the ship was now making it much more difficult to climb up. Plus the hundred of people that were going in the same direction as Clara made it more challenging than it already was being.

She looked to her left and saw several people jumping into the cold, bitter waters. She hoped they knew how to swim.

Finally Clara reached one of the bars of the gates. Just in the nick of time too. The ship was now tilting more and everything, and everyone, was falling down or sliding down into the open waters. Clara screamed as she felt herself beginning to slide slowly. "Bert, hold me tight." She said. He wrapped his small arms around Clara's neck. Clara now used both hands to hold onto the bar of the gates. Gripping for dear life.

 _Please God, please protect us. Everyone on the ship and in the water and in the row boats!_

The ship tilted more and more. More and more people slid or fell into the water. The horror screams terrified everyone on the ship.

The lights flicked for a second, then turned off. Everyone screamed in horror. Clara, herself, found herself screaming.

Clara held on tighter and tighter. A few moments or so after the lights had turned off, Clara felt the ship release and fall down; smacking into the ocean. "Clara!" The young boy who held her called out, sobbing loudly.

"We're okay. We're okay." She attempted to sooth him. But in the full honest truth, she was very unsure of herself.

The ship began to rise again, more people fell over and slid down. Clara saw a few people climb over the gate so they laid above the gates. One of the nearby men who had done this held his hand out for Bert first, helped him up, and then helped up Clara herself. Clara sat on her knees with one hand gripping the bars and the other wrapped around the young White who held her around her neck again.

The ship was now standing straight up. Bouncing up and down a tiny little bit.

People now fell straight into the water. If not, then hit objects first before landing into the water.

The ship was now slowly falling. Down into the deep and dark pitched water. Clara and Bert both screamed as the water came closer. "Bert, hold onto me tightly. Okay?" He nodded.

Mere seconds away from the water. Clara gripped onto Bert more, and he onto her. She whispered softly, "Please protect us! Please protect us!"

Clara Stanton was now dragged under the cold waters with the Unsinkable Ship of Dreams.


	33. Rescue

The intensiveness of the bitter Atlantic waters were as sharp as a sword. With every goose bump that Clara felt on her skin, a hundred knives stabbed her bump. The waves of the ship sinking effected her swimming. She felt the water turn her in all sorts of directions. Twirling, spinning, upside down and right side up. She felt unconscious in the water, almost losing her conscious mind, as she tried to focus on holding tightly onto Bert and aim up to the air. When she was able to grip onto her mind and her direction she kicked up as fast as she could.

Up in the equally, maybe more so, bitter cold were the cries of the hundreds of people in the water that were left. Clara looked at Bert and saw that he was, blessedly, still breathing. He was sobbing loudly and holing onto Clara tighter than ever. Clara began to look around for any sign of a boat that was nearby. No boats were in any sort of sight though.

All Clara could do was wait and pray that a ship or boat would float on by and pick everyone up.

* * *

Some time passed. How Clara managed to stay afloat without a life jacket and not dying from the thick cold was beyond her. A miracle? All she knew it she kept afloat and tried to keep Bert above the water as much as she could. Her body could stand the temperature a bit more than Bert's young body was able too. Clara almost dozed off once or twice before she was woken up Bert.

"Gwen!" Bert cried.

Clara turned to where Bert was pointing and hope it was a real thing and not the cold playing a horrible trick on his mind. But the familiar little girl was real, along with being held up an older boy. Clara peered more and saw it was...Carl?

"Clara!" Carl shouted. "Ah, I see you've got the brother."

"Where are the other boats!?" Clara shouted.

"Bloody bastards..." Carl muttered. "Too many rich folks aboard wanting to save their precious money." Carl rolled his eyes. "Hold on as a group. Here," He said. Carl and Clara hugged, placing the twins between the two of them, and held tightly and closely as they could. "Saves us a bit from the cold hopefully."

Clara looked around her surroundings. Most of the people were still shouting, others were not. She looked at Carl sadly, asking him if they were gone. Carl soulless eyes confirmed her answer.

* * *

What felt like ten hours passed before Clara heard someone shouting, asking for anyone to respond. She opened her eyes slowly and stared out to where she heard the shouting. She saw one row boat coming in their direction. She blinked a few times and prayed this wasn't her imagination again. Finally, she found her truth as the row boat came closer. She turned to Carl and the twins, shaking them. "Carl?" Her voice was very husky and dry, almost as brittle as her hair and fingernails. "Carl?"

"Eh?" Carl woke up briefly. "Eh?"

"Boat...boat." She said, shifting her eyes to the boat.

Carl looked over and saw the little boat. After a hazy glaze he saw it was true.

* * *

Everything happened quickly. Somehow the boat managed to get close enough to see four living people huddled in a group, Clara, twins and Carl, as well as only a few more people. Not much. Laying down with a blanket tightly wrapped around her, Clara fell asleep holding the twins close in her arms.

After this event, nothing could be worse for Clara.


	34. Findings and Homes

The confusion and madness on the rescue ship didn't stop Clara from finding walking around and looking for Josephine. She kept close with Bert, Gwen and Carl by her side until Josephine and Mr. White were found. She looked everywhere on the third class deck for the woman she remembered handing Josephine too. It was freezing, even with the thick blanket wrapped around her body, but all Clara wanted was her Josephine.

Some time passed before Clara had decided to check another level on the ship. She walked around the different levels for a while until she was forced to sit down with two sleeping children by herself (Carl had gone to find any of his friends or fellow workers). She kept the twins wrapped in the blanket she had been wearing and held them close as the cold weather blew across her body and made her skin bump with bitter cold.

Clara nodded off a bit before she felt someone wake her up. A uniformed man with a clipboard stood above Clara. "Name, miss?"

"Clara Stanton."

"Their names?" He asked after writing her name down on the clipboard.

"Gilbert White Jr and Gwendolyn White."

The man wrote their names down and then proceeded to leave to another group of individuals. Clara fell back sleep.

* * *

The dusty roads with little grass upon the lake in one area of Hope Valley were just part of her happy dream. The center of Hope Valley was what really made her happy the most. It was there that had Abigail's home and where Clara saw most of her friends the most, minus the town meetings.

Faces began to fill in more details of the memory. Abigail's very sweet face that was both soft but strong with confidence, Elizabeth's long dark curly hair and beautiful smile, Cody's wild and curious personality keeping everyone on their toes, including his sister Becky. Jack walking around on duty in his obnoxious bright red Mountie clothing. Jesse was in the dream too, hanging out with a few friends and working somewhere.

* * *

Gwen stirred awake to shift her position and felt a drop hit her cheek. She peered up and saw Clara. "Clara? Why crying?"

"Oh...I'm just worried about my daughter." Clara said. That was true of course, but also a lie. She missed her Hope Valley. "I gave her to a woman who was on a row boat. I know she's on the ship here, but I haven't found her yet."

"Is my daddy on the ship, Clara?"

Clara sighed. "I hope he is. I'm sure he is."

Clara went back down to third class carrying the two children in her arms. She sat on a bench and kept awake a bit longer before she felt her eyes become heavy. She tried to stay awake a bit longer. She was just about to nod off into another dream when the sight of a woman caught Clara's attention. The woman looked a little familiar too her. The woman was dressed fancy, not from third class, but she held something in her arms that made Clara want to get up and walked over to the woman.

Clara stood up slowly as she kept her eyes on the woman. The woman looked lost and confused, almost as if she was searching for a loved one on the ship. Clara moved slowly to the woman as the woman stood still and kept spinning around in search for someone. When Clara was a few feet closer she realized she knew the woman. This was _the_ woman Clara handed Josephine too.

Female insect must of vibrated to the other woman. She turned around and came across the brunette who handed her the baby girl on the ship. "Josephine Stanton's mother?" She asked.

"Yes!" Clara said cheerfully and almost broke down in tears.

The woman smiled and looked at Clara's little girl. "We found your mama, little beauty." She then handed the wide awake Josephine to Clara. "She wouldn't sleep after the row boat began to row away."

Clara felt her heart break into a hundred pieces of smiles. She held the baby girl in her arms and giggled with happy tears falling onto the pale baby's cheek. "My Josephine. My little Josephine!" She cheered. "I'm so happy to see you again, my girl." Clara turned to the woman and slightly curtsy at her. "Thank you for watching her."

"Your welcome. I'm happy she had her mother back. Her father?"

"Back home in England."

"Oh, that's good she has both parents." The woman said.

Clara sat back down with Josephine in her arms and each twin on her side. Clara held her daughter close to her and kissed her cheek. "Come Josephine in my flying machine," She sang. "Going up she goes, up she goes. Up, up, a little bit higher," She continued Josephine's lullaby until the tiny girl was finally asleep.

* * *

Sometime later Clara was still wide awake. She was caught up in everything happening that she rarely noticed her blond hair friend walking up next to her. "I see Miss Josephine and her mother are together again."

"Carl!" Clara said happily. "I'm so happy to have her back. I was worried I wouldn't see her."

"Don't think that's in His plans." Carl winked.

"Me either. I remember writing a note writing down details down such as what happened to me, her birthday, George her brother and where the note should be sent too." Clara explained. "But the woman said that a gust of wind blew it out of her hands before she could read the note."

"Totally a sign of that not being in His plans." Carl said. "We should be docking in New York tomorrow night.

"You're like a book that gives out a lot of information." Clara laughed.

"Can't ever have too much," Carl smiled. "Any sight of their dad?"

"No," Clara sighed. "I'm going to ask around in a bit. Maybe they recorded him coming on the ship by then."

* * *

A day passed and as the ship came towards the waters of New York, a heavy rain began to downpour. Clara stood in the bare open with the rain drenching her head to toe. Clara kept a blanket around her sleeping daughter in a way that prevented the rain water from hitting Josephine in the face. Clara turned back to the White twins, sleeping together with someone holding am umbrella over them. She sighed. There was no report of their father boarding the rescue ship.

No father. No sister. No mother. At least they still had their aunt to live with when they landed.

Clara turned back and saw a tall, dark mint green color statue holding up a torch and her other hand holding onto a book. Welcoming everyone to New York.

"We're home, Josephine." Clara whispered. "We're home."


	35. New York

After dropping off the lifeboats at the original docking area, the rescue ship docked on another pier. Clara saw what looked like three million people waiting for the ship. She assumed that a message had been sent out about the event that took place on the Unsinkable Ship of Dreams and now friends and families were waiting about the fate.

"Clara? If Daddy not on another ship that save people, where we gonna go?" Gwen asked, holding onto the bottom of Clara's dress.

Clara replied to the little girl, "Your father mentioned of an aunt who was coming to pick you all up. I can't recall her name though." Clara assumed the woman would be looking for Gilbert White at the location.

"I don't want to be alone." Bert said.

"Don't worry. I will stay here with you both until she comes to get you both."

* * *

After dealing with a large crowed gathering around the survivors, asking for personal and up front experiences about the event, Clara and the children had found themselves in a shelter for single women. Clara and the twins were settled in one of the many rooms and rested there for the rest of the night. That is, the children rested. Clara stayed up and answered several questions about herself and the children.

* * *

Clara couldn't sleep. She had nightmares all through the night. Shrieking and bloody screams everlasting in her ears, constantly at every second of the hour. The bitter coldness of the water freezing her body as well as the twins and everyone else. Soulless bodies were slowing floating up; Horrid faces fixated in their frozen state.

Clara most likely slept for fifteen minutes before Josephine woke up hungry. She took care of that business and stayed awake for the rest of the early morning. She cried for most of that morning too. She just wanted to go home. She did not care where home was at this point.

Several hours later after breakfast and some children playing with one another, an officer came up to the large area where all the single women lived and asked for Clara Stanton. Clara followed over to the man after handing Josephine to a woman.

"You are in the care for Gilbert White junior and Gwendolyn White, correct?" He asked.

"Yes." Clara admitted.

"They're aunt, Minerva, is downstairs waiting for her brother's children."

"Okay. I'll bring them down in a few moments."

* * *

Minutes later Clara walked down the stairs with each twin holding a hand. They reached the final step and saw a woman who looked identical to Mr. White, minus a few facial features, and almost snow white colored hair.

"Who is that?" Gwen asked.

"She's your aunt Minerva. She's your fathers sister." Clara said and lowered herself to their height. "She's going to take you home with her."

"What about daddy?" Bert asked.

Clara felt her heart sink as fast as the ship. She didn't know how to answer them truthfully, so she did the best that she could think of. "Do you both know who angels are?" They nodded. "The angels saved your daddy from being hurt."

"Like Gabriella?"

"Yes Gwen, like Gabriella." Clara answered.

"Why didn't the angels take us to mommy and daddy?" Bert questioned.

"Because they knew your aunt Minerva would be sad if she didn't have family left. And besides that," Clara smiled. "Your parents and sister are angels now; they're going to watch and protect you now."

"Promise?" Gwen asked.

"I promise." Clara smiled.

"Clara? What your last name?"

"Stanton."

"Where you live?" Bert asked.

"Hope Valley. Why?"

"In case we wanna find you one day, silly." Gwen giggled.

The trio then hugged a final one. Clara watched as the two children walked over to their aunt and uncle. The four greeted kindly. The aunt looked over at Clara and nodded a thank you. Clara nodded back.

* * *

Clara remained upstairs for a few more hours, trying to get rid of the nightmares that were coming back every so often. Sometime later a woman who worked for the shelter came up looking for Clara.

"There is a young man outside looking for you and someone named Miss Josephine. He asked to come up here, but I told him that unless he was an officer he was not allowed inside. Single woman and children only."

Clara knew who this person was. Clara followed outside and saw people outside waiting for interviews. She sighed. Then she heard someone from behind a door. She looked and saw Carl. "What are you doing hiding in that closet?"

"I'm not going to let you get asked a hundred questions. I could only deal with ten max. I doubt a mother could deal with more." He answered with a smile. "How are you, Miss Clara?"

"I'm good. We're good." Clara said. "Bert and Gwen's aunt came for them this morning. They're going back to Boston now."

"That's good. What about their dad?"

"He didn't make it on the rescue ship."

"Oh that's horrible. Was the aunt his wife's sister?"

"No, his own sister."

"Worse." Carl said. "I'm heading home myself now. But I just wanted to drop by here and visit you two once more."

Clara smiled, but her heart broke. Another friend and herself were separating once again. She felt like this was becoming a horrible trait that came with friendships. She held up Josephine and said to her little girl, "Say goodbye to our friend Carl, Josephine."

Carl held the little one in his arms and hugged her softly. "See you another time, Miss Josephine." Clara had noticed something with Josephine. Josephine babbled at Carl and made motions as if she wanted him to keep hugging her. She made a whiny sound as soon as Carl stopped hugging her. Clara held her and went in to hug Carl herself. "See you another time, Miss Clara."

"See you another time, Curse." She laughed.

* * *

The next morning after an uneventful night of nightmares, Clara hoped that Mary-Anne would show up today. Clara played with Josephine most of the morning until she was called down one more time with information about Mary-Anne.

"She'll be here in about an hour."

"Thank you."


	36. The Marionettes

**The Marionettes.**

Mary-Anne and her husband, Oliver, were a fairly nice couple to Clara. When Clara came to the home with Mary-Anne, the black haired woman was explaining about her and Oliver's lives. Mary-Anne worked in a laundry factory. Oliver worked in a factory working on large machines.

"Oliver comes home covered in so much saw dust that the children a few block over claim he's a real life Sandman."

"Do you have any children? Clara wondered.

"No. Not blessed yet." Mary-Anne answered sweetly. "Maybe you'll bring us good luck after all that trouble you just came from."

"Sure. I hope so."

* * *

The two arrived at a small, two level home. It looked a lot like Elizabeth's tiny home back home in Hope Valley, the one she moved into after Cody and his sister moved in shortly to Abigail's cafe home. Though some wood had fallen off the home and one of the window sheds seemed to be dangling from a single thread.

The inside was just as nice as Elizabeth's home too. Not exactly like Elizabeth's home, but almost close. A kitchen, a living room and the stairs that lead to the three bedrooms; the master room and two small guest rooms. Pretty colored walls as well.

"Your home is so beautiful." Clara smiled sweetly.

"Yes, it's not much but it's fashionable." Mary-Anne grinned. "Go settled yourself inside Clara, I have to run to the market and get supplies for dinner tonight."

Clara settled her things inside the upstairs bedroom then sat on the bed herself. She bounced her sleepy little girl gently as she gazed around the room. "This is a nice home, Josephine." Clara gently told her. "I love the beauty of it."

* * *

 **I apologize for the short chapter. The next chapter will sort of be a major time jump to December.**


	37. December

**December.**

The winter scenery in Hope Valley had come around once again. The sheets of white fluff covered the ground, the leaves fell on the snow leaving the trees bare naked and the waters had frozen sturdy enough to slip and slide on the thick material.

Homes were very warm again. Most of the time if residents weren't in their own homes they were either in the mercantile, at school or church, or in Abigail's cafe where the coffee was always running and heated food was always available. Abigail was serving out the apple pies when the wintery cold came running in after Jack and Lee walked into the room. "Afternoon gentlemen."

"Afternoon gentlemen. Coffee, Jack?"

"Yes please, just one before the trip."

"Sure thing. And Lee I have Rosemary's order in the back."

"Thank you."

While Abigail retreated to the kitchen the two men stood around to wait. "How long until you return from New York, Jack?"

"I'll be gone for a little over a week. First to help my brother out, then walk around a bit and maybe find a Christmas gift for Elizabeth." Jack answered. "I'm glad to be helping my brother get out of jail because he was helping to stop the fight between the men and women and not actually starting the fight."

"He's lucky to have you as a brother." Lee chuckled. "If Rosemary is right about the gender, hopefully in a few short years we can give Gene a little brother or sister."

"She still sure it's a boy, isn't she?"

"Gene Leland Coulter." Lee smiled. "But I'm still hoping she's a Hazel Rose Coulter with her vivid personality."

"Another Rosemary? Just what Hope Valley needs." Jack laughed.

"Just what the world needs." Lee also laughed.

Abigail returned to the front with Jack's coffee and Lee's order to go. She smiled faintly at the men, but they both knew that Abigail was kind of forcing herself to smile. Christmas was around the corner. Christmas was usually spend with family and friends, but a member of Abigail's family was still missing. Abigail was still heartbroken but she was slowly healing from the hurt. But she still ached with every unanswered prayer that Clara wasn't here.

* * *

Jack and Elizabeth big farewell to one another and then went their separate ways; Elizabeth back to class from recess and Jack on his way to help out his brother in New York.

After delivering the food and checking on Rosemary's well being, Lee was back at the saw mill awaiting a new worker from Boston. At the arrival of the saw mill Lee found a new face. A tall guy with hazel brown hair covered by a newspaper boys cap, a white shirt under his dark winter jacket, with suspenders, tan pants and beat up sneakers. He appeared young, but very skinny and fatigued. "Carl Elmer?"

Carl turned at the call of his name and saw a man with dark hair. "Lee Coulter?"

"Yes sir," Lee smiled and held his hand out to shake with Carl. "Your father's an old friend of mine, but he talks about all the time in his letters."

"Same here." Carl smiled.

"Thank you again for coming up on short notice around Christmas time."

"Oh it's no worry. Dad says that mom and him will come up in about a week and stay up here in the house I'm staying in." Carl smiled. "So Christmas with the Elmers will still happen."

"And you can really fix anything?"

"I'm good with my hands."

"Good. I need someone like that to help around with the lumbering, whether it be taking the trees down or the machines. Possibly helping to pack up the deliveries too."

"Anything you need, sir." Carl smiled. His stomach roared loudly a few moments later. "Sorry. I woke up early but didn't get a chance to eat something."

"Well how about a quick tour and then lunch. My treat."

"Sounds good." Carl smiled. Then an idea emerged. "I heard of Hope Valley once, besides from dad. There's a nice little cafe that a nice woman owns."

"Oh, that must be Abigail's Cafe. She's a very nice woman."

"Maybe I should drop by and see for myself." Carl grinned.

* * *

No more than an hour later the two men were inside the cafe. Lee walked up to order two coffees and pieces of pie while Carl stood around and studied the cafe. It was nice as his friend expressed months ago.

"Who's your new friend?" Abigail asked Lee.

"Oh, a new worker for the saw mill. Carl Elmer. His father is an old friend of mine. I had mentioned that I needed some help around the mill and he suggested Carl, who can pretty much fix or work on things that involve his hands."

"Well it sounds like the mill is going to be extra busy with all that help soon." She smiled just as Carl strolled up to the front. "Nice to meet you, Carl. I'm Abigail Stanton."

Carl gave a bright smile. Stanton. "Hello Mrs. Stanton."

"Oh, a very polite young man." Abigail smiled. "Have you've been given a tour of Hope Valley yet?"

"Personally no, but I've heard stories from Mr. Coulter and another friend of mine." Carl smile. "Actually I was kind of hoping that my friend would be here."

"Oh, and who's that?" Abigail wondered.

"Miss Clara Stanton, Ma'am."

Both Abigail and Lee looked stunned when Carl said her name. Abigail assumed he was from Hamilton, but Lee knew the true story.

"How do you know Clara?" Lee questioned.

"I met her on a ship to New York." Carl explained. Through the awkwardness he said, "I can guess from the looks on your faces that Clara isn't here."

"No. We... we haven't seen her in a while." Lee said. "She's been gone for over a year now."

"Oh. Yes, I remember her telling me that story." Carl mentioned.

"Where did you last see her?" Abigail pondered.

"New York." Carl replied. "It was a couple of days after we docked into New York."

"Was she okay? How was she? Did someone hurt her? What happened to her?" Abigail asked these and many more questions rapidly. She needed her answers. At least her prayers for Clara's living had been answered.

"She's okay. She was in good health. Couldn't be any more healthier than she was really." He said. He wanted to tell her about Josephine, but his gut told him to not speak a word about Clara's daughter. "She misses everyone and everything about Hope Valley."

Abigail gave a giant smile of relief. Clara was safe. "Where was the last time you saw her in New York?"

"A single women's shelter."

"A shelter?" Lee asked.

"Yes sir. Uh..." Carl didn't know if he should mention the disaster that took place, but maybe it would be better if Abigail knew ahead of time. "A lot of the women, single and mothers with children, stayed in one or two shelters until family could be found."

"Why would families have to be found?" Abigail asked.

Carl was about to speak when memories... nightmares flashed back into his head. But he tried to ignore them as he answered. "Clara and I... were on the Titanic."

"Titanic?" Abigail nearly shouted in horror. Hope Valley had heard about Titanic at least two days after the horrific events. Back in July, a couple from New York had moved to just outside the town of Hope Valley. They were third class passengers on Titanic and shared a few details of the event. They were both lucky to be able to make it from the cold bitter waters and onto the rescue ship. Just as much as they were lucky to share the story. Hearing it was a nightmare for the residents to hear, let alone really being there when it all happened.

"Yes Ma'am." Carl expressed. "But the last time I saw her was a few days after the event. After that she never sent a letter. I sent a letter to the shelter, hoping they would send it to whomever she was living with and then from that address she would write me back, but it always got returned back."

Abigail sighed. It hurt that there wasn't much contact with Clara still, but at least one thing for sure. Clara was alive and safe. That was all Abigail needed to hear.

"Lee? Did Jack already go to New York?" Abigail asked.

"Yes. A while ago."

"If I send a telegram, maybe Jack will get it. He told me the name of where his brother was being held." She stated. With Cody and Becky here during Christmas break soon and Rosemary's due date coming up in a couple of days, Abigail was stuck in Hope Valley for the rest of December. But if she got the message to the Mountie in time...

Then just maybe there's some hope left.

* * *

 **Whoo! They know Clara is alive! :)**

 **Yes, I think Rosemary would be a wonderful mother! :)**


	38. A Mountie In New York

**A Mountie In New York.**

Jack arrived in New York a couple of days later. After settling into the room he was renting out during his stay, Jack made his way to the jail where his brother was being held.

"Took long enough." Tom said after walking out from the holding cell. "I ask for you a week ago."

"Snail mail for a reason, Tom." Jack said as the two brothers walked out of the building. "So what was happening again?"

"This man and his wife got into an argument because his wife wants to join some sort of women's right's club or something. Next thing I know is that he slaps her, then I tackle him and then _I'm_ in the cell."

"Well I hate that you were in there, but at least there was a good reason for it. And no charge against you since it was a first _and last_ tackle, right?"

"Don't play cop with me right now." Tom said. "I've got to get back to the docks and help with the fish. How are the Thatcher girls?" He smiled.

"Julie's engaged."

"What!?"

"Joking." Jack laughed. "You should of seen the look on your face, Tom."

"Not funny." Tom replied. "Oh, I got this for you," He reached into his pocket and handed him a telegram. "One of the guards asked me to hand it for you. From Hope Valley."

Jack opened the telegram and read the letter from Abigail. His eyes grew in size when he read her message. "Tom, if I say a particular name can you tell me if it means anything."

"Sure I guess."

"Oliver Marionette."

"Marionette? I know him. I worked at a factory with him for a bit before I got the fish job."

"What's his address?"

* * *

Jack arrived to the Marionette residence a half hour later. He couldn't hide his excitement. He knocked loudly hoping someone was home. A women with dark hair opened the door. "Yes?"

"Hello, Mrs. Marionette?"

"Yes, I'm she."

"My name is Jack Thornton, I'm a Mountie from Canada." He greeted. "I believe a friend of mine is staying with you."

"Oh, yes, the girl... Clarissa?"

"Clara."

"Oh," Mary-Anne smiled. "Yes, Clara."

A smile grew on Jack's face.

"She's not here."

Well his smile died down. "She's not here?"

"No, she moved out about a month ago. Just up and left in the middle of the night. No note or anything."

"Oh," Jack sighed. He was sure she would be here. Maybe she had a friend. "Did she have any friends?"

"Not much that I know of other than Josephine. Oh, but she did have a job at a small store as a seamstress."

"May I have the address?"

* * *

A while later after nearly being lost, Jack arrived at the store where the seamstresses worked. He walked to the counter and waited until a woman with dark auburn hair and glasses appeared. "Yes, how may I help you?"

"I'm looking for a friend of mine." Jack said. "Clara Stanton."

"Stanton...Stanton...Stanton. Oh, yes, I remember her. Such a sweet girl." The woman smiled.

"Is she here?"

"No. I had to let some women go a few months ago because I couldn't pay them all. It hurt to release her, but she was only a week new to the job. But, I do know she worked in a small cafe before here."

* * *

Jack walked a few blocks down in the snow covered streets to the cafe. Upon entering Jack was greeted. Jack thanked the man and asked if Clara was here. The man went to check and another man came out with information.

"She worked here for a week on dishes until she found the sewing job a few blocks down. She said she was better at sewing."

"Before this job where was she?"

"As in a living place?"

"I know she was with Oliver and Mary-Anne Marionette."

"Yes, that's where she is. Is she not there anymore? No? Then I don't know where she could be, sir."

"Thank you."

"But I do know this woman Clara spoke about once. Mrs. Howell. She's a nurse at a hospital where her husband is a doctor."

* * *

Jack followed to the hospital and spoke to Mr. and Mrs. Howell. They haven't seen her in a week, nor did they know where she lived, but they took the name of where Jack was staying and promised to send Clara his way if they came in contact with her soon.

Jack left a little distraught. He was hoping to have found Clara by now, but she was still missing. He wouldn't give up. He was so close to finding her.


	39. Friends

**Friends.**

Jack searched the rest of the day for Clara, taking information from the few people she had interacted with. Clara, along with her new friend Josephine, seemed to be traveling all over New York. He found that it was close to midnight and decided to retreat back to bed for a night of rest.

Jack traveled down the street as it snowed heavy and the wind began to pick up a little bit. Jack pulled his jacket over him tighter as he pushed past the wind. He turned a corner and nearly knocked into a young woman covered in a thin, hooded cloak to keep as warm from this bitter winter cold.

"Excuse ma'am," Jack tipped his head at her and walked past her.

 _No, I must be dreaming._ The young woman thought. _That isn't... Could it be?_

Jack was only fifteen steps past the woman when he heard a weak but forced loud voice called after him.

"Constable Thornton?"

How could someone from New York _know_ that he was a constable? Pure luck?

Jack turned back to the young woman, who now faced him. "Yes ma'am?"

 _It is him!_

Clara pulled her hood down. Her brown, unkempt wavy locks were flying as they were pushed by the wind gently. She was thin; unhealthy, sickly almost skeleton thin. Her smile had life though and optimism was now written on her entire face brightly. Her sick body as pale as the winter snow.

Jack's eyes became large. This was her!

"Clara!" He shouted happily.

"Jack!" Clara shouted just as happily.

Jack ran over the snow, not slipping, as Clara ran to him a little bit. With his arms opened out into a hug, Clara jumped into his warmth and held him as tight as she was able too. Jack held her just as tight, if not tighter, and bringing warmth to her cold body.

Finally both friends not only found one another, but they were together again and knew nothing could change that.

"Oh my God, Jack! I'm so happy to see you!" Clara cried into his shoulder, but her felt like her tears became frozen in the cold. "I've missed you all so much!"

"We missed you too, Clara." Jack said into her hair, rubbing her back. "Abigail and all of Hope Valley have missed you."

Clara pulled away from the hug and asked, "How is Abigail? Is she okay?"

"She's fine. She's been heartbroken since you were gone."

"Oh dear." Clara sighed. "I've missed you all so much. I hated that I was taken. You won't believe what happened to me, Jack."

"I do know." Jack stated. "Your two friends, Rosalie and Violet, they came looking for you a couple of months later. They explained everything to us."

Clara smiled. She was glad that everyone knew the truth. She worried that maybe they assumed she ran away. Her body shook for warmth; she shivered as the wind picked up and made her arms goose skin again.

Jack rubbed her arms. He now realized that her cloak wasn't helping her at all. She wore a raggedy, old, partially torn short sleeve dress with a few sewn in patches to fix up (but still a couple of tears here and there). Her boots covered most of her feet, but her soaking wet socks at the peep of her toes were shown.

"Let's get you somewhere warm." Jack said.

"My place." Clara said. "I have to go back there. It's not too far."

* * *

 **Reunited! :D**


	40. Thorny Clarification

**Thorny Clarification**

Jack had given Clara his jacket to keep warm during the short walk to where Clara said she lived. Where she lived, of course, was near water. The water made the living temperature a lot more colder than before.

Clara lead Jack to a tiny shed size home. It didn't look to be in great shape. The home appeared to be incomplete built since half of the wood was nearly gone and the window sheds were missing. The windows had no protected, letting the cold air inside of the home. It looked like an abandoned building too.

"This is where you live?" Jack asked.

"Yes." Clara said. "It's not much but it's worth it."

"Is it just you?"

"Not exactly." Clara said. She coughed again, bending down from the amount of pressure her coughs were. "Sorry."

"No, it's okay." Jack said. He was a bit worried. Clara was sickly thin and this was the tenth time she coughed in the five minute walk they had taken here together. "Are you sure you're okay, Clara?"

"I'm fine." The brunette lied. She pushed the broken door and stepped inside. "Walt, I'm back boy."

"Who's Walt?"

Suddenly a golden retriever came running down the stairs and ran to Clara. He jumped on her, licking her face all over and wagging his tail.

"Good boy," Clara rubbed Walt's head gingerly. She reached into his basket and handed him a piece of bread she had managed to get. "How's everything?" He licked her face. She sensed that everything was all right. "Good. Walt, this is Jack Thornton. A friend of mine." Clara turned to where Jack stood at the doorway.

"Hey Walt," Jack greeted.

Walt jumped up onto Jack and licked his face, wagging his tail too, greeting the man. Any friend of his masters was a friend of his, right?

"I found Walt a few months ago." Clara said, then coughed again. "A raccoon broke in here and almost attacked... my friend, but Walt scared it away. Since then he's my protection."

"Well I'm glad to hear that," Jack said and rubbed the dogs head. "Is your friend Josephine?"

Clara tiled her head. "How did you know?"

"A couple of your old co-workers and friends told me about a Josephine."

"Anything else? Like who she is?"

"Your friend."

"Oh, okay." Clara said. "Do you want to stay for dinner? I know it's extremely late but I had a couple of things to do." Clara settled her basket on a table.

"No thank you." Jack rejected. "I'm not very hungry."

Clara nodded. She wasn't too hungry. Just fatigued. "Okay. I'll be right back." Clara left for upstairs.

This gave Jack a few moments to study around. The place wasn't neat or tidy, but there was rarely nothing in this place. Just two chairs, a table, a couch, a broken bookcase and a rug. The couch held a few thin blankets.

Clara climbed down the stairs and saw that Jack wasn't looking in her direction, focusing on the kitchen with no cabinets and a single candle in the one window that had glass to prevent cold from entering.

"Jack."

Jack turned around and found Clara. In her arms, covered in probably the only thick blanket in the home, and bundled in a jacket with a nice wool hat, was a little girl who looked a year old. "Who's this little beauty?"

"This is Josephine," Clara smiled. She lightly kissed the toddler's cheek. "She's my daughter."

Daughter? Jack studied between the two and saw that, indeed, they had to be mother and daughter. They both matched face shapes and eye color. Josephine's hair was a lighter, almost auburn, color compared to Clara's dark brown hair. But nevertheless they were twins. "She's beautiful."

"Thank you." Clara smiled. Josephine had turned, saw a friendly looking person, and instantly reached out to be hugged by them. "Do you want to hold her? She loves hugging people."

"Sure." Jack said. Clara handed him the blanket held little girl and Jack held her gingerly, sitting up right, in the blanket still. "How old is she? A year?"

"Almost. Christmas morning will be her and George's first birthday."

"Who is George?"

"Oh... my son," Clara answered. She never forgot her first son, but it hurt that it was almost a year since he passed away. "They were both born on Christmas Eve. George Patrick Donald was born first."

"Is he sleeping upstairs?"

"No. He passed away in his sleep a month later."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Thank you, but it's okay," Clara smiled, wiping a few tears away. "I have my little Josephine Hope Stanton here to keep me company."

"Josephine Hope Stanton?"

"Yes. Josephine after a song I learned right before I had the babies, Hope because of Hope Valley and... I sort was still a Stanton when I had her, even if I was forced to marry someone else when I got to England."

"You were in England?"

"Yes." Clara said, then yawned. "I was there until I came home."

Jack nodded slowly and saw how fatigued Clara was. "I'll let you have some sleep, but I'll come back tomorrow morning." He said as he handed the toddler to her mother. "I promise."

"Okay." Clara said. Then with one more hug, using her free arm, Clara embraced Jack. "I'm so happy too see you, Jack."

"Me too Clara. Me too." Jack smiled.


	41. A Sickly Story

**A Sickly Story.**

The following morning Clara opened her eyes and felt a pounding headache following her. She also felt light headed and faint. The brightness in the room hurt her eyes, but she soon came use to them and studied around the room. She found herself on a hospital bed, surrounded by other similar beds; some occupied and others empty.

She attempted to sit up but she felt dizzy in her head and rested back down. She saw someone in light color clothing walking over to her with a cloth and a bucket. "Miss Stanton?" She asked. Clara thought that the voice was familiar.

She blinked several times before the blur became a clear definition. It was her old acquaintance; Mrs. Howell. "Mrs. Howell?"

"Hello dear," She smiled sweetly. "I'm glad you are awake. I was worried your fever would never go away."

"My fever?" She asked.

"A high fever too, if I must add." Mrs. Howell said as she placed the wet clothe over Clara's forehead. "You had a small case of a high fever. With your fever being over 110 degrees, your body physically being weak and apparently under weight due to lack of diet and nutrition, your friend was afraid you wouldn't make it back home." Mrs. Howell explained to the young brunette.

"My friend?"

"A mister Jack Thornton?"

"Jack?" She was surprised. She thought she had dreamed the entire meeting with him. "Where is he?"

"He's out in the front room. I'll go get him for you if you want."

"Please?"

The Mrs. Howell left the room; Jack walked into the room several moments. "Clara?"

"Hello."

"How are you feeling?" Jack took a seat in the chair next to Clara.

"Better I guess but still a bit hot in the head," She answered. "Where's Josephine?"

"She's with Mrs. Howell maid for the day."

"Is she okay?"

"She's fine. She had a little fever but she's going to be just fine with the medicine."

"Oh good." The young mother smiled brightly. She coughed right after that, to the point where she leaned over on her side and felt like her chest was being pressed by a mountain. She also threw up at the end of the last cough. "Yuck," She muttered. "Jack, how did I get here?"

"I was on my way over to where you were living to check on you with some food. I was a ten minute walk away when Walter ran up to me and began barking in almost a panic. I followed him to where you were and you were passed out on the floor," Jack explained. "What's the last thing you can remember?"

Clara thought for a moment as she tried to remember the previous night. "It's a bit of a blur but I remember getting up to grab another blanket for myself and felt very dizzy. I felt hot in my head, but cold everywhere else, and I can't remember anything." She said.

"You've got a bit of a fight ahead of you. You have pneumonia, a tiny case of scarlet fever and the flu." Jack said as he brushed a piece of her sweaty hair back. "Plus with the severe weight loss you have and not too good of a diet, it's going to be a challenge."

"Oh dear," Clara muttered. "I just want to go back to Hope Valley. My home." She began to cry a tiny bit. "Is there any way you can bring Josephine to me if I'm not too sick?"

Jack gave her a hopeful smile. "I'll see what I can do."

* * *

Lucky for Clara that she wasn't too sick. She couldn't hold Josephine for too long, but at least half an hour would be fine. When Jack walked into the room with the little girl, wrapped warmly in a pink blanket, he saw the look on Clara's face. She instantly sat up and had an illuminating glow of happiness surrounding her.

"Hello Josephine," Clara smiled as she took her daughter from Jack's arms. "How are you my sweet girl?"

Jack had given Clara a moment of privacy with Josephine and returned when she called him back into the room. "You both look happy now."

"I guess we just needed each other," Clara said with a faint smile. The tiny girl laid in her mother's arms; gripping her mother's index finger while sucking it at the same time. "I don't know what I'd do without my Josephine."

"Clara, I hope you don't mind if I ask how you came back to... I guess this side of the world from England?"

Clara shook her head. "I don't mind. It's a good story...sort of."

"You don't have too if your not feeling too good. I can wait."

"No, it's okay. The sooner you know than the better it is I guess."

Clara began to tell her tale of what happened after she was taken from Hope Valley. To the barn she was tied up in and her friends, Rosalie and Violet, to being told she was going to Ireland when she really ended up in England.

Her destined friendship with Harry O'Malley on the ship comforted her on the trip to England and once she was off the ship and on the land of England her nightmares began. She spoke about Patrick Pennington and how she was forced to marry him; marry him or face death. She told Jack about the first few days being okay and then once they were back in England, Patrick's true personality came out.

His harsh words and physical abuse to Clara made her become upset, even greatly sad some days, until she became pregnant. Only then did Patrick rarely hurt her. Did his words hurt her? Yes. Did he push her around into walls? No, but a slap on the face was good enough for Patrick. But she told Jack that by then she had met the other O'Malley members; Fiona, Harry's twin sister, and their father Tommy. She explained how when the twins were born Patrick cared more about George than Josephine. She didn't speak too much about George's death, but made sure to quote what she firmly believed. "I honestly believe that Patrick wished Josephine had died and not George."

"How did you come back?"

"Tommy got me a ticket that was coming to New York." She said.

"On a ship?"

"Yes... Back in April." She answered slowly. Surely Jack must of known about the event.

Jack sat up a bit when she said the month. If his gut was right, he knew which ship that was. "You mean you were on—"

"Yes." Clara finished. "Third class ticket too." She paused as a short memory played; she was on the back holding onto Bert as the ship sank into the water. She didn't want to speak of it so she skipped the whole part. "I ended up in New York and stayed in a shelter for a bit until the Marionettes picked me up."

"That's what I heard. Someone named Carl Elmer told Abigail that, but when I checked the house I was told you left. Then it was just a goose chase."

"Oh, I did leave." Clara said. "I started to become sick and I overheard the Marionettes that I was starting to become a burden, so I got up in the middle of the night and left to stay with a friend."

"They shouldn't have called you a burden. No one can help it if your sick."

"That's what I thought too, but I didn't want to burden them. I tried to get any sort of job and I just was having no luck in getting one or keeping one." She sighed. "I sold some clothing I had and even took that dress...the one you saw me in? That and some other dresses similar to that one, I took from a donation box and sold more clothing. It was just becoming worse by the week and now I've just been begging for food or money on the streets. I have a few good days and some bad." She said. "The night you found me I was just going out to get some bread from a baker who I had met a few days earlier. He throws out bread that hadn't been bought in three days because it goes back soon. He gives me the bread at not price." Clara turned down to the now sleeping baby in her arms. "I just want to go home."

Jack felt for the girl. Ever since she was taken from Hope Valley she has had nothing but bad luck. She's had good things happen and was glad she had good friends to help her along the way, but the poor girl just wanted to go home to her family. Jack held her hand firmly and looked her straight in the eye. "You're going home. I promise."


	42. Turn For The Worse

**Oh Goodness! I'm so sorry for the long, almost monthly, update! I do apologize!**

 **I am so excited for the** _ **When Calls The Heart**_ **Chrsitmas special in a little over a week now! :)**

* * *

 **Turn For The Worse.**

Although Jack was to be back in Hope Valley earlier this week, he was still in New York with Clara. He hadn't mention to Elizabeth why he was still lingering in New York; only to express that he was on personal business and would be home hopefully fairly soon.

Clara slept on and off. Whenever she was awake all she wanted were two people in the room; Jack and Josephine. Jack reminded her of home in Hope Valley; Jack being here symbolized that she would be going hopefully soon. And Josephine was her little girl and seeing her tiny green-eyed, dark auburn hair daughter smile brightly always made Clara feel better, even if her health wasn't feeling better.

Clara's health hadn't increased, nor decreased. She still was sick with a bit of a fever. It didn't help that because of her fever she was still vomiting. She wasn't gaining much weight. Her mental health was still ill too. She had flashbacks to being on the ship. Water surrounding her, nearly killing her on several occasions. She felt the water crawl on her skin and digging it's fingerless nails into her skin and creating goosebumps all over her body.

By the end of the week though, things took a turn for the worse.

* * *

Jack came into the hospital as usual, carrying the nearly one-year old girl in his arms, on his way to Clara room's when he saw that she wasn't in her room. He looked around and saw her doctor walking down the hallway with a clipboard in his face. "Excuse me?" Jack interrupted. "I was just curious to know where Ms. Stanton was?"

"Are you family?" The doctor asked.

Jack was an honest man, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to see her unless he was blood. The only honest but still false truth was, "I'm her brother-in-law." At least this seemed true. Clara and Elizabeth seemed like sisters when they were together. Heck, they almost looked like one another to Jack sometimes.

"She's been moved to the other end of the hospital," The doctor answered. "Her fever is still running high and her body hasn't been able to keep food or water into her system without having her vomit shortly after eating. In other words, she has taken a turn for the worse."

Due to the intense of illness in this area of the hospital, one of the nurses took young Josephine into her watch while Jack visited Clara. She walked into the room for ill women and found her at the end of the room next to the window. As Jack approached her he saw, for the first time during his usual visits, that her appearance was much worse than he had forced himself too see.

Clara very sickly thin. Jack noticed that parts of her face was just bone and skin, same to the thin wrist that was sticking out from the cover. He also knew from the looks of it that the hospital gown Clara wore wasn't clinging to her body snugly. It just seemed to dangle off her body.

"Clara?" Jack spoke up quietly.

Clara turned from her side as she fluttered her eyes opened to the brightness and defined Jack's face through it. Pushing strength to smile she said, "Hello Jack," She coughed harshly, then rested back into the bed.

"How are you feeling?" He asked as he sat next to her in a chair he pulled up. "A bit better?"

Frowning Clara shook her head. "Not much." She said in a frail, very, very weak voice. "Josephine?"

"One of the nurses is watching her. They won't let her in this area of the hospital."

"I know." She said. After a couple of breathes Clara asked, "Jack?"

"Yes?"

She turned to a piece of paper slowly and said, "Open this."

Jack reached over to the paper and opened it. He read several lines a few times. These were document papers that Clara had signed off of with her named; Clara Stanton. In the papers it listed that Josephine was to live with Abigail Stanton of Hope Valley. Plus other information of the documents. Plus a neatly hand written note from Clara to Abigail.

 _Dear Abigail,_

 _I'm so sorry that I can no longer be here with you in person. You have been a second mother to me and I can say no more than a million "thank yous" plus a million and a million more and so on. Thank you for not seeing me as a burden and taking me in as your daughter-in-law with no son (or husband for me) in our lives. Thank you for putting up with my mess making, burning making and more accidents I may have created in the kitchen. Thank you to you and everyone of Hope Valley for making me feel at home with a large family._

 _This is my daughter, Josephine Hope Stanton. She was born Christmas Eve in London, England, with her older twin brother; George Patrick Donald Stanton. Formally legally, both of their surnames were Pennington, their father is Patrick Pennington, but I do not see that man as their father. He was a horrible, cold heart man. He makes Mr. McGowen an angel. George passed shortly after the New Year. When I arrived to New York I changed it back to my former married name, Stanton, plus giving the name to Josephine. I know that Josephine does not carry the Stanton blood and will never carry it, but I feel sometimes that if all of this happened to me while Peter was still alive than he would love her like she was his blood._

 _By the time you read this Abigail I am with Peter and his father and the other minors. I promise to care for Peter and Noah the way you cared for me too. I ask that you please care for Josephine for me. You are my only family left and I only trust you to care for her. I trust and support all decisions you will make to help raise Josephine to be exactly like the women of Hope Valley; strong, determined, honest and faithful._

 _Thank you Abigail. For Everything plus more._

 _Love,_

 _Clara Stanton._

Jack read it thoroughly twice to be sure that he had read everything. His broke his heart that she had written his letter for Abigail, plus made papers for Josephine to legally live with Abigail if Clara wasn't to make it.

"Can you give it to her Jack?" Clara asked.

"I'm not going to need to give her this." Jack implied. "You will go back to Hope Valley."

"Jack," Clara's weak voice broke and her eyes watered. "I have a feeling...when I leave here...it'll be...in a...casket."

"No." Jack said sternly.

Clara coughed harshly again. "Jack...hug and kiss...Abigail and Josephine...for me. Promise?"

"Clara," Jack said again, looking very concerned at her. "You _are_ going back I promise. I know it'll have to take a miracle but it'll happen I promise."

"Promise?" Clara asked again. She was almost crying at this point. "Promise?"

Jack sighed and bowed his head. "I promise."

Clara rested peacefully in the bed again, closing her eyes. She was ready to go home now.

Any home.

* * *

 **She needs a Christmas miracle.**


	43. Hopeful Miracle Christmas

**Hello Hearties! I hope you all had an amazing Christmas and New Years!**

It was Christmas Eve in Hope Valley. Everyone was bliss and cheerful for this wonderful holiday. Every sang and decorated their homes with bright colors and got ready for spending time together with friends and family. Every person was happy.

Abigail was happy. She had Becky and Cody with her. But the holidays made her upset about Clara no longer being here. Almost two years without Clara and it hurt as if Clara was just kidnapped yesterday.

Elizabeth had planned a large dinner for several of her friends and family. However the only family member to arrive was Julie. Viola was invited to another Christmas party months earlier and had forgotten about it until a week before Elizabeth's when she found the invite in a pile of cards in her room. Her parents usually attended another holiday party, but would arrive and visit for the New Year. Tom arrived a few days after Julie and the two acted as if they were never separated. And although she had given birth a week earlier, Rosemary felt well enough to attend a small gathering. In her words to Elizabeth when she announced she was going to attend, "I want my little Gene to show off his beautiful smile to his Daddy and I's friends."

A small gathering with large meal? Sounds like a bit of a hassle but it seemed good enough for Elizabeth to handle.

At the cafe Abigail was setting up the table while Becky helped by setting the glasses and utensils down. "Miss Abigail? Are you okay?" Becky asked.

"Yes. I'm fine Becky." Abigail said. "It's still hard, but I'm slowly taking it day-by-day."

"They say Christmas is a time of hope. I don't think you could get anymore hope in Hope Valley that you can hope for." Becky smiled.

Abigail smiled at the young girl. "Thank you. I remind myself that everyday."

* * *

The dinner was finally set and after a thankful prayer was said, everyone gently indulged themselves into the feast. It was quaint with laughter and good conversation. Abigail did her best to be happy with her close friends, family and newcomers around, but she still felt broken. Her entire family wasn't here; a piece was still missing. Actually, two pieces of her were missing.

There was a knock on the door and Cody was up in a flash to open the door. Abigail didn't hear too much from Cody, just him and what sounded like an older man. After a couple of minutes a happy Cody ran back into the room, followed by a familiar brown haired Mountie.

"Jack, you've return!" Elizabeth said happily as she stood up to go hug him.

"I couldn't miss Christmas. Even though if I had than I would be sure to not miss New Year's." Jack said as he hugged her. "Abigail, Elizabeth, I hope you don't mind that I brought some friends with me. I met them in New York and became pretty close to the three of them."

"Oh I'm sure we have enough food to feed three more if we can already feed two more cities." Abigail laughed softly.

"Okay. I'll get them." Jack smiled.

Elizabeth returned to her seat while Jack outside to grab his guests. He couldn't contain his excitement; he was too overjoyed with sharing this gift with her Hope Valley family. Jack opened the door to gather the first guest, holding her hand and brought her inside.

Abigail took a third bite of her corn and looked up to see if Jack had brought his three guest inside. As if a jolt of wind slapped her across the face to take her up, Abigail saw the familiar face of her daughter-in-law. After a moment hesitation and wondering if she was seeing this was real Abigail stood up and said a bit loudly, "Clara!" Everyone in the room stopped talking and turned towards Jack and found the same happiness that Abigail was feeling.

"Abigail!" Clara cheered.

The two women walked quickly to one another and finally embrace. Clara rested her head on her mother-in-law's shoulder and began crying. Finally bliss that she was in the arms of Abigail, the only person she's wanted to hug for a year and a half now.

"Oh my God, your back." Abigail said, rubbing Clara's back. "I've missed you."

"Oh Abigail I missed you too." The dark brunette expressed. "I've missed Hope Valley for so long. I wanted to come back as soon as I left and I prayed every day that I would come back. After some time of no answer I was beginning to think Hope Valley forgot about me."

"We could never forget you," Abigail sweetly told her as she wiped a few of Clara's happy tears from her cheeks.

"It's a miracle that Jack found me in New York," Clara smiled and hugged Abigail again.

Abigail hugged Clara firmly and looked over to Jack with thankfully, cheery eyes. Jack gave a simple nod with a smile. _I promised I would bring her back._

"Abigail, I brought a guest with me," Clara said. "Can I go get her?"

"Is this the same guest as Jack or a different guest?"

"Same one I believe."

"Sure. Go get her."

Clara turned around to the front door of the cafe and opened it. She began giggling. "Geeze Carl, you really did cover her head to toe."

 _"I had too, Miss Clara. It's below freezing cold. The ship and the water was warmer than this atmosphere!"_

Clara scooped up her little one from Carl, who made his journey back to his house where his parents were seconds later, and shook off the blankets, the two hats and big thick scarf he wrapped around her neck. "Your so bundled up I barely knew it was you, Josephine."

Clara carried her back into the room full of guests. Abigail saw the toddler in Clara's arms and became instantly curious about the child. "Who's this little sweetie?"

"This is Josephine," Clara answered. "She's my daughter."

"Well she is the cutest little girl I've ever seen." Rosemary admired. "She and Genie will make the most adorable little couple in Hope Valley."

"Genie?" Clara asked.

"Lee and I's little boy," The new mother explained. "He's the most adorable little boy in Hope Valley."

Abigail grinned at the tiny toddler in Clara's arms. She was a real beauty, that's for sure. "Can I hold her?"

"Of course." Clara handed Josephine to Abigail. Instantly Josephine cuddled into Abigail arms, almost as if she knew this was someone who's held her before. "She already loves you."

"Hello beautiful," Abigail kissed Josephine's forehead sweetly. "Are you both hungry?"

"I'm starving."

"Come sit with us then. Plenty of food."

"Thank you." Clara laughed.

"Jack, who's the third guest?" Tom asked. Before Jack could answer, there was s catching at the door. Jack walked to the front door and opened it, letting both Walt and Rip walk into the room. "Seriously?"

"Well I haven't seen Rip in a long time and Walt is Clara's."

"You have a dog?" Elizabeth asked.

"We sort of met one day after he fought off a couple of raccoons that broke into my house. He's been my protection and companion since then." She smiled.

"It seems like Rip likes his new friend as well," Lee joked as he watched the two dogs lay next to one another in a corner.


	44. Old Home but New Home

**Sorry for the long wait. At least this long break and the start up of the new season episodes have helped a bit.**

A couple of days passed in Hope Valley. It took Clara a bit of time to get use to knowing where she was going in Hope Valley and familiarize herself with faces and names. A lot of things have changed too in Hope Valley. A railroad company had come to Hope Valley about a month after she was kidnapped, with a train just a bit up north of Hope Valley. The rail road brought new faces into Hope Valley and nearby cities and places, mostly families. Dottie had opened a clothing store to create dresses, something that made Clara _very_ happy on the inside. But what impressed Clara the most was that Abigail was mayor of Hope Valley...for a short time at least.

Clara was so use to taking care of Josephine herself since Josephine was born, that it was odd for her to hear Abigail say to the fatigued younger mother, "Clara you can rest for a bit. I'll check on Josephine." Clara trusted Abigail so of course she didn't have to check on the two of them, but she sometimes found herself looking into the old bedroom Clara stayed in to check on the two. She found herself smiling at a smiling Abigail, who cooed and cuddled Josephine like she was her own granddaughter. Which brought up another memory of her return, of her second night home.

* * *

 _Clara and Abigail were sitting together on the couch. Cody had just gone to bed an hour earlier and Abigail was holding a sleeping Josephine in her arms whilst she listened to Clara's story about what had happened to her when she woke up in a barn tied up. It brought great sadness to hear the story, knowing that Clara was sad almost the entire time, but she was happy to hear about the friends she had made in England. The only character she did not care for was the Pennington man Clara was forced to marry._

 _"He was horrible, Abigail. He makes Mr. McGowen an honest, kind man." Clara said. But with a smile she said, "The only good thing he's done for me was given me George and Josephine."_

 _"That_ is _the only good thing I like about that man," Abigail agreed. "I just can't believe that one couple in New York who said you were a burden. You were sick and still new in the city and alone. And that you lived in a unfinished home having to sell whatever you could, and beg, to care for yourself."_

 _"It was horrible. I don't ever want anyone to go through that again." Clara said. "But it was worth it for my little Josephine."_

* * *

Clara was washing dishes from the lunch hour with Abigail when Bill walked into the empty cafe looking for Clara. She followed into the room and spoke with him for a couple of minutes before returning to the kitchen.

"What was that all about?" Abigail asked.

"He wanted to drop off something for me," Clara smiled. She held up an official document paper. "It's Josephine's birth certificate. At least, the one for her Canadian residency."

Abigail read the paper, _Josephine Hope Stanton,_ along with the date of her birth and the date of the day she became a citizen of Canada. "I didn't even know you had asked to get one."

"I didn't think about it at first but Mr. Avery suggested I get one for her so she won't get deported back. Although I'm still unsure about how they would deport a seven year old with no family back in England and her mother a born resident of Canada."

"I guess it is better to be safe than sorry," Abigail said. She noticed the sad look on Clara's face. "Clara, what's wrong?"

"I sometimes wish she was Peter's daughter. And that George was his son." Clara admitted. "At least then there would be blood linked to Peter for you."

Abigail smiled faintly at her daughter-in-law. She took hold of Clara's hand and said to her, "Clara you are every bit a last piece of Peter, including his love. This little girl is a piece of your love. So she _is_ in a way a piece of Peter, making her his daughter."

Clara released a hopeful smile. "Really?"

"I do." Abigail answered. "Plus if all of this had happened while Peter was still alive I know right away that he'd love that little girl like his own blood. The moment he see her he'd say, 'That's my daughter.' in his heart."

That brought a smile to Clara's face. She's always been upset that Josephine wasn't Peter's daughter. But hearing from Abigail that Peter would had loved Josephine like his down daughter the second he laid eyes on her, helped make Clara feel better.


	45. The Ending

A month passed since Clara and Josephine had come home to Hope Vally. Clara was still over the moon about being home. Her true home. Sometimes she felt like she was dreaming and would worry that she would wake up to that horrible man she was forced to marry. She missed her friends from England and she missed her little boy George; but she wrote a letter to her friends and was waiting for a return letter soon and she knew her little George was with his paternal grandparents, her grandparents and maybe even Peter.

* * *

Clara had made a routine for herself. Similar to her old one from before this all happened, but a bit different.

Clara still woke up at the crack of dawn and fed Josephine, who usually would have just woken up with Clara too, and then ready for the day. She kept the year old baby upstairs with several toys some of the other mothers had given her. After every task she had done in the cafe she run up to check on the baby. Once she was checked on she go back down, routine as followed.

She'd eat a small lunch before taking a stroll around Hope Valley with Josephine, Walt and Cody's dog. She visit a few shoppes on the way and drop off or pick up orders for Abigail as well as visit a few friends. Sometimes she found herself in company with Rosemary and Gene.

* * *

She passed by one store. She peered inside for a brief moment and saw Jesse. Her sweet Jesse. She was so happy to have reunited her friendship with him. Her heart broke though sometimes.

Understandably, Jesse moved on. In late November the year she was gone. He had thought she was dead. Come April, Jesse was courting a new resident who helped Faith in the health department, her father and brother worked in the railroad business. She was happy for him, but she missed him sometimes. But the feelings were going away.

* * *

Clara returned back to the cafe, using the back-side door, and found on the counter a basket of peonie flowers. She picked up the basket and smelled them. "I wonder who these are from, Josephine." Clara asked aloud. Josephine made a babbly sound back. "Really? You think so?" Clara asked as if she understood Josephine. The toddler babbled again. "Huh, I'll leave a note for Carl to thank him." She laughed.

* * *

Later that night Clara sat outside of the cafe on the step of the cafe. She gazed up into the moonlit sky. "Peter? Can you hear me?" She asked. "Thank you, and you too God and mother and father, for watching over me and protecting me, and Josephine, during all this. I still do not understand why all this had to of happen. I don't think I will ever understand. But because of all of you," She smiled brightly. "I'm home again."

* * *

 **This is the end. I hope you all enjoyed this and thank you so, so, so, so, SO much for reading this story!**

 **I don't have plans for a sequel, but I'm playing around with a couple in my head.**


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